


Freelance Good Guys: Knowledge and Power

by TheGreys (alienjpeg)



Series: Looming Gaia [27]
Category: Freelance Good Guys, Looming Gaia
Genre: Abuse, Action/Adventure, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Captivity, Child Abuse, Dragons, Drama, Elves, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, Friendship, Gay Sex, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Magic, Slavery, Violence, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienjpeg/pseuds/TheGreys
Summary: Matuzu Capital is under attack by a horde of undead! Who could be behind such a hideous army, and what do they have to gain? The Freelance Good Guys take it upon themselves to find out.
Series: Looming Gaia [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/833844
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Trainfire

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally drafted in October of 2018. Yeah…THAT’S how far behind I am. This thing went through a ton of revisions, but it ended up being one of my favorites in the series so far! It’s very action/adventure-oriented, though it still has a lot of prerequisites. If you haven’t read the previous Freelance Good Guys stories, I recommend doing that before you start this one or else it won’t make much sense.
> 
> For concept art, discussions, dumb memes and more, check out the Looming Gaia blog: https://loominggaia.tumblr.com/post/175087795478/looming-gaia-masterpost

**[CHAPTER 1: TRAINFIRE]**

_Matuzu Capital is under attack by a horde of undead! Who could be behind such a hideous army, and what do they have to gain? The Freelance Good Guys take it upon themselves to find out._

_LATE_ _WINTER, 6007_

The cows were shut away into the barn, the chickens corralled into their coop, the last of the dishes washed. Finally Isaac’s chores were done, and so was the day.

Inside his little stone house, Evan reclined on the couch with a book. “Did you brush your teeth?” he asked as Isaac passed.

On his way down the hall, Isaac rolled his eyes and groaned, “Yes…”

“Are you sure about that?” pressed Evan, glancing up from his book.

Isaac pulled the cord dangling from the ceiling. A ladder slipped down from the ceiling, hitting the floor with a heavy thump. “Don’t do this to me. I’m a grown man,” he sighed.

Evan lowered the book and told him, “I thought I was grown at sixteen too. Now at a few months shy of forty, I look back and see just what a child I was.”

Isaac thumped his forehead against the wall. “What are you trying to say, old man?”

“I’m saying I can smell your breath from here, which means you need adult supervision, which means you’re not grown.” Evan told him, pointing towards the kitchen. “I’ll treat you like a man when you start acting like one. Now go brush your teeth, boy.”

Isaac tossed up his hands and stormed into the kitchen with a loud groan. Evan heard thumping and splashing from behind the doorway, the sound of Isaac preparing the wash basin and searching for his toothbrush.

“You know,” Evan began loudly, “if you had a bad tooth where I’m from, your papa just boozed you up something fierce, got his pliers and yanked it out of your head!”

Isaac stepped back into the sitting room. Foamy baking soda oozed from his mouth as he spoke over his scrubbing toothbrush. “Good thing we ‘on’t live in a shit-‘ole like that.”

Evan shot him a sidelong look. “Isaac…” he warned.

Isaac spit the foam into a cup and corrected himself, “Fine. _Waste_ -hole.” He started walking back into the kitchen, then paused in the doorway.

Turning back to Evan, he asked, “Why are you always nagging me anyway? I mean, it made sense when I was a kid. But now you’re just being ridiculous, don’t you think? I’m old enough to go die in a war, and you’re barking at me about cussing and brushing my teeth like I’m in preschool!”

A silence passed between them. Isaac leaned in the doorway, arms crossed with a sour look on his face. Evan lowered his book again, took a deep breath and explained, “Six years ago, your mother left us a mysterious letter and an obscene amount of gold. In return for the gold, we were to take care of you and teach you all we knew. Your mother clearly wanted nothing but the best for you…”

Isaac’s gaze fell to the floor, long curls obscuring his face. Evan continued, “Sure, my crew and I probably aren’t the greatest role models on Gaia. I’ve never been a father before, and I’m still not sure I have what it takes to be one. Gods know _my_ father didn’t…”

“So, you only took me in for the gold?” Isaac mumbled.

Evan sat upright and said, “The gold is long gone, Isaac. We spent it all building our compound years ago. We could have passed you off to any orphanage after that, washed our hands of you and—who knows? Perhaps you would’ve been better off for it. But we didn’t. Do you know why?”

Isaac shrugged. Evan went on, “Because we accepted you as one of our own. I can’t speak for the rest of the crew, but considering I fed you, clothed you, and housed you under my roof, that makes you _my_ child. Your mother entrusted your care to me, and all I can do for you is what I know. All these rules and all this nagging sounds ridiculous now, but when you come to be my age, I promise it’ll all make sense. Do you trust me to know what’s best for you?”

Scrubbing his palms over his face, Isaac let out a muffled, “I guess…”

“Good.” Evan smiled. “I suppose you must, because it’s not like I ever _force_ you to do what I ask. You just do it, so you must respect me at least a little.”

“A _little_ ,” Isaac told him. A hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

Evan said, “Well, it looks like the pliers can stay in the toolbox for another day. You’ll thank me for this in your thirties. Now I’m telling you to go to bed, and you’ll thank me tomorrow when you’re not fighting to keep your eyes open on the way to Kandul. It’s going to be a long flight, possibly through some nasty weather.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll get us there in one piece, don’t worry.” Isaac yawned as he walked back to the hall. Before he disappeared into the attic, he called, “G’night, old man!”

“Goodnight, Isaac. Sleep well.”

Evan picked up his book again. He listened, but he did not hear the attic door shut. Just a moment later, Isaac asked, “We’re still going to Jelani’s palace, right?”

“Yes. We’ll be spending our vacation there right after we finish our contract. Why do you ask?”

Isaac paused for a moment. “Uh, I was just thinking…” he began slowly. “If you’re my dad and you married Jelani, that would make him my dad too.”

Evan chuckled, “I suppose it would. But we’re not going there for a wedding, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“But let’s say we did. Then…” Isaac shuddered. “Uuugh, that would make _Lukas_ my uncle!”

Evan let out a hearty laugh. “Aw, don’t be so hard on Lukas. He cares about you too, you know. He loves all of us like family.”

“Well, he’s terrible at showing it.” After a pause, Isaac added, “Hey, what if he traded places with his brother? Lukas could go rule Uekoro and Jelani could be your new commander!”

Evan shook his head with a little smile. “Hm. Good luck convincing him to move back there. It was hard enough getting him to come on this job with us…”

Hanging his head out the attic door, Isaac queried, “You’re not really gonna marry Jelani, are you?”

Evan quirked an eyebrow towards the dark hallway. “Why are you so fixated on this silly idea?” he asked.

Isaac shrugged and responded, “You guys have been together for a while now. What if you did marry him? We’d all have to move to Uekoro, huh?”

Evan opened his mouth to speak, but his thoughts hadn’t come up with an answer. He closed it for a long moment, then decided, “It’s much too late for discussions like this. We’ll talk about it some other time, okay? Just get a good night’s rest so we can get an early start tomorrow.”

After another silence, Evan heard a mumbled “okay”. Then he heard the rumble of the ladder being pulled up, punctuated by the click of the door.

*

Isaac peeled off his clothes, smeared with dirt and damp with sweat from a hard day’s work. He removed all but his necklace with the golden bird pendant, which had not left his person in 7 years. He knew that the moment he took it off was the moment he’d lose it somewhere. It was simply too precious to risk. Isaac slipped into cotton pajamas, yawning as he collapsed into his hammock. His yawn turned to a shout as a hard edge dug into his back.

“Ow! What the…?” He dug through his nest of blankets. There he found a thick leather-bound tome lying innocuously before him.

But it was not so innocuous, for it was none other than Destiny’s Tome of Infinity. The very book the minervae gave to him before he left the World Athenaeum. The very one that would kill her if it was destroyed. The very one he locked away in an iron safe in the corner of his room and hadn’t touched since.

So what was it doing lying out in the open?

Isaac dropped to his knees before the safe. He turned the combination lock with his shaking fingers and wrenched the door open. It was empty. He looked back at the book lying in his hammock. He jumped when it suddenly opened, pages flipping back and forth as if blown by the wind.

“W-what’s going on? What are you doing?” he queried, tip-toeing cautiously towards it. He watched the pages flutter back and forth for a long moment. Then he yelped when the cover snapped shut. The book lie still once more.

Isaac’s trembling hands reached out. He drew away briefly, then swallowed his fear and picked up the book. He was always surprised by its feather-light weight, despite how heavy it looked. He turned all around, squinting in the darkness. The small room was lit only by a candle flickering away on his side table.

A glass jar sat on the dresser, housing a handful of dirt, a stick, and 2 common tree beetles. Isaac turned to the beetles and blurted, “Did you guys see that?” Then back to the book, addressing it when he said, “Do that again!”

The book offered no reply. It sat quiet and lifeless in his hands. “Please?” Isaac urged, but it did not move again. He opened it himself and began flipping through the pages. Each one was completely blank, not a mark to be seen.

He recalled what Destiny told him. The book would reveal her great knowledge to him when the time was right, she said. But why would it tease him like this? Isaac considered putting it back in the safe. After a moment of thought, he changed his mind and left it on his side table. If it had something to say, he didn’t want to miss it.

Isaac crawled back into his hammock, staring at the tome until his eyelids grew too heavy to hold. The candle burned down and extinguished itself in its own wax pool, cloaking the room in darkness.

*

Evan and his 5 most trusted crewmen arrived in Kandul by roc, touching down in the dragonport at sunrise. They slept the flight away, and now it was time to board a train for another long ride.

But they could not close their eyes on this train, for they were hired to guard it during its journey to Uekoro. The Midland Savannah was home to good men, ferocious beasts, and desperate brigands alike. The train was hauling valuable cargo, the mercenaries were told, and letting it fall into the wrong hands could spell disaster for the whole region.

The train rattled down the tracks stretching across the flat, sun-baked savannah. The land seemed to stretch on forever in a wash of red earth and olive scrub, contrasting sharply with the clear blue sky.

Four long cars made up the body of the train. The frontmost car housed the conductor and engineers, the two behind that holding cargo, and in the caboose were the mercenaries and Isaac’s great roc, Shadow.

The roc stuck her head out the large back window, hungrily eyeballing the 40 wildebeests around her. Half of these beasts were tethered to each side of the train, and it was only their muscle that kept it rolling down the tracks. Their thundering hooves were deafening as they quaked the ground around them.

The train was a noisy, ugly, primitive behemoth of a contraption. The mercenaries rattled around inside, feeling as if it would fall to pieces any moment. At the same time, they couldn’t help but be enchanted by the majestic sights as it carried them onward.

Evan climbed the ladder to the roof of the caboose. A short guard rail protected him from falling over the side as he inched his way to the edge. A family of towering giraffes fed from a tree in the distance, and though he was supposed to watch for danger, he found himself transfixed by the local wildlife instead.

Evan jumped when something touched his shoulder. But it was only Lukas, using Evan to brace himself as he settled in beside him. The two offered eachother silent, knowing smiles before turning back to the scenery. The region was too hot for steel armor, but their leather plates protected them well enough from the wind battering against them.

The rest of the mercenaries rode in the train car below. Isaac sat on the splintery wooden floor, laying against Shadow’s bulk as he flipped through the Tome of Infinity over and over again. He’d checked every page several times, and still they were blank. There were 600 pages the first time he counted, 200 the second time, and 450 the third time. Nothing about the book made sense.

“Perhaps it’s time to put that thing away, Izzy,” suggested Jeimos, sitting across from him. “Stars forbid you lose it somewhere or drop it out the window…”

Isaac’s eyes remained fixated on the pages when he replied, “No way! It’s trying to talk to me! I have to pay attention or I’ll miss something important.”

“The kid’s losin’ his mind…” mumbled Glenvar.

Standing by the window, Alaine told Isaac, “You should pay attention to your _job_ or you’ll miss something _really_ important. Lukas said this region is crawling with bandits.”

“Yes, it was foolish of you to bring that valuable book! Please put it away before someone sees it!” added Jeimos. The elf was wringing their hands with anxiety, glancing out the window every few seconds.

Isaac insisted, “Guys, it was trying to tell me something last night! I found it sitting right there on my bed. It was turning its own pages, I swear to you!”

“Sleep-walkin’ is a bastard of a thing. A little mead’ll put ya down ‘til mornin’,” said Glenvar, sipping from his flask.

“I wasn’t sleep-walking! I know what I saw!” growled Isaac. He flipped through the book with more vigor, muttering, “Come on, come on…Do it for them, please? You’re making me look like an idiot…”

Just as Alaine opened her mouth to speak, Shadow jumped up and let out a loud screech. Isaac fell backwards onto the floor. The bird flapped her wings in the confined space, mercenaries flailing and shouting as she slapped them around.

It seemed her sharp avian eyes had detected something they could not. She strained her neck against the window frame, crowing madly at something far beyond their field of vision.

Finally, Isaac tore his gaze off the tome. He shoved it in his rucksack and pushed it under one of the seats, then turned his attention to the open hatch in the ceiling. Evan poked his head through and shouted over the noise, “What’s going on down there?”

“I don’t know! Something’s scaring Shadow!” Isaac called back. He stroked the bird’s feathers and tried to calm her. The roc wouldn’t have it. She anxiously shifted from talon to talon, creaking and crowing incessantly. Isaac’s gut twisted with worry. This wasn’t like her at all. There was little Shadow feared beyond a creature bigger than she, and the mercenaries saw no dragons flying overhead.

Lukas stood tall on the roof, squinting at the horizon behind them. The family of giraffes were anxious too. They reared up in a whooping panic before running off, aimless and disoriented. The wildebeests let out frightened bellows and quickened their pace. Lukas noticed then that their beady eyes were flashing from black to glowing green.

“We’ve got Kaconenans!” Lukas shouted over the noise, already nocking his bow with an iron arrow. Evan looked all around, but he saw no one at all. All he saw was a vast plain behind and a rocky canyon ahead. Before he could ask ‘where?”, dozens of zebras poured down the sides of the canyon, each of their eyes glowing bright green.

Riding the zebras were the Kaconenans, elves and goblins wearing abstract zebra-head masks and little else. They whooped and hollered, waving their magical staffs in the air. All two-dozen of them surrounded the train, their mounts running right alongside the wildebeests. Enchanted by the Kaconenan’s magic, the wildebeests began to fight against their tethers.

The train rocked to and fro. It would surely derail and tip over if the Kaconenans had their way, so Evan clung tightly to the guard rail as he shouted down the hatch, “We’re surrounded by hostiles! They’re trying to crash the train! Take no prisoners!”

“Way ahead of ya, Chief!” Glenvar called back, and he chucked a throwing knife out the window. The blade spun forth until it stuck into an elf’s back. The Kaconenan let out a wail and fell off his zebra, disappearing under the wildebeests’ hooves.

His fellow nomads shouted out in anger. The mercenaries ducked away from the windows as a volley of stones and throwing spears hurled towards them. On the roof, Evan raised his iron shield and blocked a spear, only to be struck in the head by a stone from behind. His leather helmet absorbed the blow, but as blowdarts and spears whizzed by, he realized just how vulnerable he and his crew were.

Lukas dropped to his belly and fired an arrow through the bars of the guard rail. The arrow stuck through a Kaconenan’s wooden mask. Lukas fired a second arrow, striking another nomad in the chest before the first even hit the ground.

The canyon seemed to stretch on and on, trapping the train and its attackers in close proximity. Two rocky faces loomed over them on both sides, and just ahead, Evan spotted more Kaconenans standing atop the plateaus. The silhouettes of their zebras stood stark against the bright blue sky.

“Hostiles ahead! Lukas, get inside!” he barked. Lukas turned away from his bow and spotted the enemies. He rose up to his knees, then yelped as the train suddenly jerked to the right. The wildebeests were bellowing and pulling madly against their reigns, each side trying to pull away from the other. Lukas slipped forward and nearly fell over the edge, catching the railing just in time.

Evan rushed to his aid, struggling not to slip off himself while the train rocked back and forth. He blocked an incoming spear with his shield while he pulled Lukas back onto the roof, carefully leading him to the hatch.

Before he opened it, he noticed a few Kaconenans standing up on the backs of their zebras before they made flying leaps onto the sides of the cargo cars. One slipped off and fell to his death under the wheels.

Evan cursed under his breath. “Get inside and help the others,” he told Lukas, shoving him down the hatch to the caboose. Then with his shield raised, he made his way low and slow across the rooftop to the next car.

If the Kaconenans managed to open the cargo doors, the mission was over. Not only would they forfeit their pay, but Jelani would be _furious_.

Lukas slid down the ladder to the caboose, meeting his crew inside. They were taking cover beside the windows, shooting and throwing projectiles when they could. A Kaconenan spear whizzed through a window and punctured the wall just inches from Jeimos’ head. The elf shrieked and collapsed on their backside in shock.

While they hyperventilated on the floor, Alaine glanced their way and cursed, “Damn it, Jay, this is _not_ the time for a panic attack! Get up!” With that, she puffed on her blowgun and fired a long iron dart. It stuck into a zebra’s hip, the animal rearing up and throwing its rider in shock.

“Oh no, oh my stars, I can’t—I can’t breathe—I can’t—!” Jeimos wheezed in a trembling heap, clutching the front of their black robes in trembling fists. Sweat gleamed on their brow, each breath shallow and labored. Lukas crept under the windows to kneel by their side.

“Jeimos, come on! Get it together!” he begged, placing his hands firmly on their shoulders. The elf’s eyes sparkled with tears. They shook from head to toe, groaning, “My heart! Oh, Lukas, m-my heart! I can’t—”

A stone flew through the window and hit the wall with a loud bang, falling a short distance away from them. Jeimos screamed and broke down into sobs.

“Forget it! Red’s down! We need some muscle on the port side, Luke!” shouted Glenvar, posting himself two windows down from Alaine.

Lukas looked at the window, then back at Jeimos. He cupped the sides of their face, forcing their gaze to his when he said, “Just breathe! In through your nose, out through your mouth, understand?”

Though they couldn’t respond verbally, Jeimos forced an eager nod and did as the commander told them. They took in a shuddering breath through their nostrils and pushed it out through their lips. After a couple more breaths, Lukas patted their shoulder and quickly rose to his feet, posting himself across from Glenvar.

At the very back of the caboose, Isaac was struggling to turn the lever that would open the large door. It was set in place extra tight, as if by hands that feared Shadow’s escape. “Who tightened this thing? An ogre?” the young man grunted. He threw his entire bodyweight against the mechanism, gnashing his teeth in exertion. Shadow squawked furiously all the while, beating him with her flapping wings.

Above, Evan made his way to the end of the caboose. He leaped onto the first of the cargo cars. Three Kaconenans were clawing their way up to him on all sides. Evan bashed one with his shield, sending him to his death. He turned just as another chucked a knife at him, slashing it out of the air with his sword. Spotting slender, elven fingers clutch the edge to his right, he quickly brought his blade down and chopped them off.

The Kaconenan went down with a scream and a spray of blood. Just one had made it to the top of the car, standing across from Evan with a long spear in his hands. Evan had no doubt he could dispose of this foe, but many more were just seconds away. The train passed under the warriors standing at the top of the canyon. Evan was suddenly attacked with a barrage of stones and arrows from both sides.

He hunkered down low, pulling his shield over his head. His head was spared, but he growled in pain as he felt the hot sting of an arrow sink into his thigh. Another stuck through his leather pauldron and barely grazed his shoulder, a third mercifully piercing his false leg.

When the rain of stones quieted, Evan peeked over his shield, eyes rounding in surprise at the spear launching towards his face. It only scraped his brow as he threw himself back just in time, then with barely a thought, he threw his shield like a disc. It collided with the enemy warrior’s shins, knocking him to his knees.

Evan was back up in an instant. He charged forth and seized the elf by the throat, then tossed him off the train like a ragdoll. The sun beat down on him, drawing buckets of sweat into his armor. Evan’s chest heaved as he snatched his shield and wiped the sweat from his eyes.

He blinked through the blur, trying to examine the arrow in his thigh. The end stuck outwards, tipped with black and white stork feathers. The shaft was painted with black and white stripes. This was the sacred palette of the Kaconenan tribe, and it decorated everything from their mounts, their clothes, their tattoos, all the way down to the individual arrows that plunged into their enemies.

Probably best not to pull it out just yet, he thought, so he simply snapped the end off to mitigate its nuisance. Just then, something jostled the entire train from the caboose. Evan fell on his belly, clutching the railing for dear life as Shadow exploded out from the car.

With frantic flapping, she got herself airbone with the frame of the back window hanging off her neck. She’d broken straight through the rotten boards, leaving one entire side of the caboose exposed.

The crew shouted obscenities at her, but it was far too late. She shook off the frame with a piercing screech and ascended high into the sky. Evan could see Isaac clutching the bottom strap of her harness, dangling off her like a stray feather.

The Kaconenans atop the canyon were giving chase, strengthening their brethren’s numbers by at least a dozen more. Alaine noticed them running along the top of the plateau and cried, “Oh, great, there’s more! Where did these ones come from?”

“They’re Kaconenans, they come from everywhere! You cut one down and they just multiply like worms!” grunted Lukas, firing off another arrow. He turned to the gaping hole in the back of the car and called, “Anyone got tabs on Isaac?”

As if on queue, Shadow swooped by the window and flew alongside the train. Isaac greeted them with a cheerful wave, then they watched in awe as the colossal bird sunk her talons into a zebra’s hindquarters. She lifted the animal into the sky, its rider clinging desperately to its reigns.

“Drop it!” commanded Isaac, and Shadow flung the zebra and its jockey behind her. The zebra crashed into two others, throwing their riders, and the jockey was left violently spinning across the dry earth.

“Hey! How about a lift?” called Evan, waving from the rooftop.

“You got it, Captain!” Isaac saluted him before jerking Shadow’s reigns, tilting her downwards. She flew closely above the train, close enough for Evan to reach up and cling to one of her legs.

“Alright,” said Evan, “now let’s teach the rest of these cretins a lesson!”

He stood on the roc’s toes with an arm wrapped around her knee, sword ready to swing as she descended upon a group of Kaconenans. With one well-timed chop, he sent one of their heads flying, then sliced another through the torso.

Shadow beat her wings and quickly ascended before they could retaliate, pulling Evan out of their reach and blasting them with a powerful gust of air. The gust spooked a zebra, which reared up and bucked its rider into another.

If they didn’t stop, the Kaconenans running on the plateau would quickly fall over the edge as the train neared the end of the canyon. One of them let out a shout, an unintelligible command, and led his fellows in a risky maneuver. Evan’s jaw dropped when he saw over a half-dozen zebras jump off the canyon and onto the train.

One of the jockeys dismounted on the caboose and raised his wooden staff high above his head. It lit up with pulsing magic, and then he brought it down against the hatch. The door blew off with a loud bang. One by one, the elves leaped down into the car.

The mercenaries were taken by surprise as the car was flooded with whooping hostiles. Alaine was the first to break away from her post and intercept them. She pulled the long spear off her back and used it to block their path.

She killed their momentum for only a brief moment, just long enough for Glenvar to charge in with his iron warhammer. It crashed into a Kaconenan’s spine, then before another could retaliate, Lukas fired an arrow into their chest.

As their crewmates jumped in the fray, Jeimos lie huddled against the wall in a state of meditation. They inhaled deeply the coppery stench of blood, imagined calm waters as they exhaled it through their mouth. The tremors in their hands were subsiding.

Metal collided with bone, with stone, with wood in the madness of the battle. Alaine dropped her spear in favor of the twin daggers at her hips. Her every stab, slash, and cut was clean and precise as she tore through the invaders in a whirlwind of violence.

Each of the enemies towered over Glenvar, but it was no matter, for he bashed his helmed head into their groins and forced them to their knees. Blood and teeth scattered across the floor when his hammer met their faces.

Lukas struggled to keep his distance, but even more Kaconenans were approaching the caboose from behind. They rode up to the gaping wall and fired projectiles right inside. The wildebeests bellowed. The train wobbled to the left, throwing everyone inside against the wall.

The velocity sent one Kaconenan tumbling out the window, but he snagged Alaine on the way out and dragged her with him. She disappeared with a fading shriek.

“Alaine! Feck, no!” Glenvar roared, scrambling back to his feet. He sprinted forth and took a flying leap into the group of invaders, screaming all the while, “I’ll slaughter every one of ya feckin’ feckers fer that! Yer all comin’ down with me--!”

“Glen, don’t!” Lukas pleaded, but it was too late. The short little man disappeared in the flurry of stabbing spears and swinging clubs.

Lukas’ vision suddenly flashed white. He opened his eyes and found himself lying belly-down on the floor. A stone was sitting beside him and the back of his head was throbbing. Blinking the blur from his eyes, he turned back to the Kaconenans catching up to the caboose. They were beginning to leap off their mounts and onto the train, making their way inside.

Shadow swooped by every so often with Evan attacking from her talons, but it just wasn’t enough. Lukas was surrounded and outnumbered many times over. He turned to Jeimos, who was seemingly catatonic and no help at all. The wildebeests raged again and the train tilted, this time to the right. Once again every passenger was thrown against the wall, some tumbling out the windows.

Lukas was nearly one of them, clinging tightly to the window’s edge. He saw the wildebeests just outside, snorting and slavering under the Kaconenans’ spell. With nothing to lose, he launched himself out the window and onto one of their backs.

The animal hardly noticed his weight as he clung tightly to its leather harness. Below, the earth sped by under hundreds of thundering hooves. One wrong move and Lukas knew he’d be trampled to paste.

He drew a dagger off his belt, using it to swiftly slice through the tethers that attached the animal to the train. Before long, the wildebeest broke loose and separated from the herd, running aimlessly into the plains. Lukas struggled to hold on. His heart pounded in his chest. He spotted Shadow flying overhead with Evan and Isaac on her person, the two doing their best to mitigate the flood of Kaconenans approaching from behind.

The others were surely dead. Lukas had no doubt about that, but there was no time to dwell on it now as he fought for control of the raging beast. He seized its curved horns and steered it back towards the train. If he couldn’t save his crewmen, he could at least save his paycheck.

“ _Hiya_!” Lukas cried out high and shrill, slapping the animal on its rear. Fear drove the wildebeest on faster as a Kaconenan targeted Lukas, chasing him down with a spear ready to strike.

Lukas briefly glanced back at his enemy, then jerked his mount’s horns to the left. It made a sharp, sudden turn. Ducking low, Lukas avoided the Kaconenan’s spear as the wildebeest rammed into their zebra, shoving it to the ground.

The sturdy wildebeest charged on, undeterred in its trance. Lukas urged it close to the front of the caboose. He could see the metal pin contraption that fastened the caboose to the rest of the train. His legs quaked as he tried to stand up on the beast’s back. He wobbled, nearly fell to his doom, then caught his balance and launched himself onto the train.

His gloved fingers trembled against the outside ladder. Carefully he made his way around to the frame between the caboose and the first cargo car. It rattled violently beneath him, making it all the more difficult to turn the mechanism that released the pin.

Shadow circled the cargo car before thumping down on the rooftop. Evan stumbled away from her and dropped to his knees at the edge of the car, looking down at Lukas. “What are you doing, friend?” he shouted over the noise.

Lukas shouted back, “Don’t worry about it, just help me!”

Evan clumsily slid down the ladder and joined his commander’s side. He observed for a moment, then mentioned, “Lukas, this will separate the train!”

“I know! That car is infested, we have to cut it off!” Lukas told him. “Quick, before they get into the cargo!”

Evan furrowed his brow. “Where are the others?” he asked.

“It’s too late for them!”

Evan’s face blanched, eyes rounding in shock. “What? But—”

“Evan, just help me! Please!” Lukas roared, and for just a brief moment, Evan swore he saw tears in the man’s eyes. There was no time to find out for sure. Evan did as he was told, seized the mechanism and twisted it with ease.

The pin came loose, the two lifted it together, and the caboose separated from the rest of the train.

10 enchanted wildebeests were attached to the caboose. They began to panic and pull against one another, slowing the car down. Evan, Lukas, and Isaac watched solemnly as the car separated, then cried out in surprise when it suddenly burst into flames.

Fire blazed from each window, smoke billowing out into the clear sky. All at once, several flaming Kaconenans made their desperate escape and leaped from any route they could.

The fleeing elves landed in the path of their brethren, tripping their zebras, which tripped those behind them, and caused a cascade of braying animals and screaming warriors. Weapons flew, limbs flailed, and the remaining stragglers finally admitted defeat. They scooped up their fallen and fled back into the canyons.

Just like that, they disappeared as quickly as they’d shown up.

Isaac gasped, clutching the sides of his helm as he recalled something terrible. “Wait a minute! My book is still in there!” he wailed, and before his cohorts could stop him, he piloted Shadow to land on the flaming car. He leaped off the bird’s back and hurried to the open hatch, but heat and smoke sent him reeling back. He staggered away in a coughing fit.

Isaac fought to open his eyes, looking for another way inside. Then a figure appeared through the haze, tall and slim. The figure stooped over to help a shorter, rounder figure out of the hatch, and then closed it behind them.

“Jay! Glen!” Isaac wailed, on the verge of sobs. “I left my book in there! Destiny’s gonna die, she’s gonna die, all because of me…!” He threw his arms around Jeimos’ waist, spilling tears on their pyriad hair robes.

Jeimos quirked their brows at him. “Perhaps _you_ forgot. But do not underestimate the extent of my anxiety, young man,” they told him. Isaac drew back in confusion, and then he saw it: his rucksack slung around the elf’s shoulder.

Isaac nearly collapsed with relief. “Jay, I could kiss you,” he sighed.

The elf smiled. “Please don’t.”

“Would ya _stiras_ wrap up the tea party before we burn to death?” barked Glenvar. Soon after, he and Jeimos were clutching Shadow’s talons as she carried them back to the cargo train.

They converged with the others in the short balcony on its back end. Evan greeted them with an overjoyed smile, squeezing them both in a crushing hug. “Gods, I thought for certain I lost you two!” he laughed, then planted a kiss on each of their cheeks.

Glenvar quickly wiped his cheek and told him, “Hey, hey, don’t let yer boyfriend catch ya smoochin’ another _maska_! I already got my arse kicked once today!”

Indeed, the yellow-haired man was peppered with scrapes, cuts, and bruises. One of his eyes was blackened, lip split in two places and leaking blood into his beard. He groaned in pain as he sat down against the wall, taking a moment to catch his breath. The others decided to do the same. Together they watched the stray train car go up in flames, slowing to a helpless stop as the wildebeests panicked.

It seemed the flames damaged their harnesses, for one by one they were able to break away and escape into the wilderness. The car tipped over and became a smoking speck on the horizon.

Finally, Glenvar gained his composure enough to speak. He let out a long, ragged sigh and mentioned, “Allie fell out the train a ways back.” He turned to Isaac, bloody face hardened with emotion. “Mind flyin’ out there ‘n pickin’ up her body? Y’know, before some dogs get at it or somethin’…”

His tone was flat and solemn, carrying more grief than Isaac had ever heard from the man. All their stomachs sank together, sadness squeezing at their throats. “Yeah,” Isaac sighed. He rose to his feet and began lifelessly making his way up the ladder towards Shadow, waiting for him on the rooftop.

He clutched the straps of Shadow’s harness and climbed up into her saddle. From such a height, he saw a speck approaching from the distance. He squinted. As it grew closer, he could make out an equine shape with a masked jockey on its back. One bandit was extra determined, it seemed.

“Seriously?” Isaac growled. He whipped Shadow’s reigns and she ascended, bolting towards the lone, foolish Kaconenan. Her talons were splayed before her, and at such a velocity she’d rip the nomad to shreds with one swoop.

The Kaconenan suddenly grew an extra arm and waved it in the air. Its flesh was golden brown, wearing a green dragonscale gauntlet. Isaac furrowed his brow. Then he gasped, realizing the jockey wasn’t alone. Alaine sat just behind him, holding a knife to his throat with one hand and waving the other.

“Right, Shadow! _Right_!” Isaac screeched, pulling her reigns to the side with all his might. The roc folded her sharp talons up against her body, beat her wings and flew around the zebra instead. Isaac piloted her back around until she hovered low, flying parallel with their crewmate.

Alaine was smeared with blood and savannah dust. Still she smiled cheerfully as she greeted, “Hey, Izzy! Look, this nice gentleman decided to give me a lift!”

Isaac’s gaze shifted to the Kaconenan, sitting rigid with her blade pressed to his throat. “Uh, that’s great,” he said. He patted Shadow’s neck and added, “But wouldn’t you rather ride in style?”

Alaine shrugged. “I guess,” she said, then with one clean swipe, she slashed the Kaconenan’s throat and pushed him off the zebra. An instant later, she stood on the creature’s back and made a flying leap. She clung to Shadow’s talon while the bird carried her back to the train.

The moment Alaine’s boots touched the rooftop, Glenvar scrambled up the ladder and tackled her down. “Allie-gator! Praise the stars, ya made it!” he wailed gleefully, squeezing her in a tight embrace.

Alaine laughed, “Of course I did! Now quit slobbering on me!”

The others made their way to the rooftop to greet her. There they sat together in the shade of Shadow’s shadow, admiring the beauty of the landscape.

“So, uh, what happened to the caboose?” asked Alaine.

“Lukas detached it because he thought you were all dead,” Evan answered flatly.

Lukas slapped his captain on the arm and hissed, “Throw me under the bus, why don’t you? I did what I had to! You’d all have done the same.”

“Shite, all my luggage was in there,” grumbled Glenvar.

“Mine too,” Evan told him with a hearty pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry yourselves though. I’m sure Jelani will have everything we need at his palace. We should be arriving soon, at least before sunset.”

Raising a crimson eyebrow, Jeimos asked, “Do you think he’ll be sour after we broke the train? I mean, we did lose quite a few of those animals…”

“Oh yeah, those beasties _gotta_ be expensive,” mentioned Glenvar.

“What if he takes it out of our pay?” groaned Alaine.

Evan frowned, letting out a weary sigh. “I won’t let that happen,” he assured them. “I’ll, uh…make it up to him somehow.”

*

The Freelance Good Guys did not close their eyes until they left the perilous savannah and found themselves travelling beneath the shady, lush canopy of the Midland Jungle. Kaconenans rarely bothered wandering into the jungle, the mercenaries were told, for the eyes of the Matuzan Guard were too many.

Finally, after two long, arduous days, the train rolled to a stop in the village of Uekoro. Though Uekoro’s officials lovingly called it a “village”, in reality it was a large city of wood and stone that extended up the lush, rocky hills.

Topping the highest mountain was Fanaka Palace, its spires stretching high into the misty sky. The sun peeked out from behind the palace, offering just a few more strands of sunlight before it retreated fully behind the mountain.

The train stopped at a loading zone, where cranes lifted the two cargo cars off their bases and placed them onto wheeled frames. The frames were dragged off to the barracks by elephants. The Uekoran military general accepted the cargo, chastised the mercenaries for damages, and then they were free of their duties at last.

Evan and his crew arrived at Fanaka Palace just before dark. The chorus of frogs and insects had already begun, singing in the jungles all around them. The guards knew Evan’s face well, letting him pass through the great double-doors without question.

The Freelance Good Guys stepped into the atrium on sore feet, caked with dirt, blood, and grime. They were bruised and bloody, smelling as rank as the swamps in the east. They must have truly been a pathetic sight, thought Evan.

But soon Jelani arrived, greeting them with an ear-to-ear smile regardless. Like an eager child, he slid down the railing of the elegant curved staircase and threw his arms around the captain, filling the room with his booming laugher. “Look who it is! It’s been years since I’ve seen your beautiful face!” He kissed each of Evan’s cheeks, then planted one on his lips.

“Years? I was just here a month ago,” Evan reminded him.

The king held Evan’s face in his hands, shaking his head as he replied, “Well, it always _feels_ like years. Every minute you’re gone is like a kick in the ass, you know that?”

Evan chuckled, “Oh, I know it. I’m happy to see you too, love.”

The two shared another kiss, deep and lingering. Lukas visibly gagged as the others politely averted their eyes. Jelani then turned to the crew, gesturing inwards to his palace as he said, “Come in, don’t be shy! Make yourselves at home! You all know where the guest rooms are. Dinner is long gone, but just ask the servants and they’ll prepare anything you want.”

Evan pulled a slip of paper from his back pocket and handed it to Jelani. “Oh, before I forget,” he began, bashfully scrubbing at his sunburned neck, “we made the delivery to the barracks, but um…Unfortunately we ran into some problems along the way.”

Eyebrow quirked with intrigue, Jelani closely examined the paper. “What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a bill,” Evan explained regretfully. If only he were a turtle, he would have retreated into his shell. “The general wasn’t happy about the damages to the train. He said the station in Kandul would charge him, so he passed the cost along to us. I thought maybe you could, uh…have a word with him, or…”

Evan trailed off, offering a sheepish grin. As much as he hated shirking responsibility, the bill was astronomically expensive for a small team of backwater mercenaries. Yet Jelani had shoes gathering dust in his closet with an even higher price tag, so how much trouble could it be for the king to pay it for them? Or better yet, use his authority to tell the general where to shove it?

Jelani glanced down at the bill, then back at Evan. His full lips were pressed into a line, his brow looking much the same. Evan’s grin faltered. Without a word, he could tell Jelani was not happy about this.

After a moment, however, Jelani forced a strained smile. He carefully folded the paper in two and tucked it away in his beaded vest. “Sure, I’ll take care of this for you,” he told Evan. He grasped the lycanthrope’s stubbled jaw, giving it a playful and perhaps vaguely threatening shake. “You can just pay me back tonight.”

With that, he tossed an arm around Evan’s shoulder and began leading him up the stairs. Evan glanced back at his crew, watching him go with a variety of expressions. Glenvar wore a wide, toothy grin and held his thumbs up in the air. Lukas, meanwhile, was already trudging off down the corridor to the guest rooms.

The crew went their separate ways, dispersing through the vast palace grounds. There was so much to do here and their vacation had only begun. Isaac was prone to getting lost in such a place, so he decided to trail the man who knew it best.

“Hey, Luke?” he queried.

Eyes fixated ahead, the archer grumbled, “Ugh, what do you want now? We just got here!”

Isaac hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Do you think we’ll have to move to Uekoro one day?”

“What? Why would you ask that?”

“If Evan and Jelani get married,” the young man clarified. “They’d want to live together, right? Evan can’t run the company all the way from here, and Jelani can’t just leave his people. We’d all have to come here and live with your brother.”

At this, Lukas stopped in his tracks. He quickly turned to face Isaac, sounding quite annoyed when he snapped, “If Evan moves to Uekoro, he’s going alone! I’d rather eat my own tongue than move back to this trash-heap! That’s exactly why I’m boarding a flight home first thing tomorrow. You can all enjoy your little vacation, but I’m just here for the paycheck.”

Isaac shrugged and admitted, “I dunno. I kind of like it here.”

“You also like hot sauce on tuna fish, you little puke. What do you know?” spat Lukas, then he whirled around and stormed down the corridor. Isaac followed him for a few paces, his mouth full of questions. He decided against them and stopped.

Instead, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “You’re a giant butthole and everything that comes out of your mouth is just farts!”

Lukas raised both of his middle fingers, paying Isaac not even a glance before disappearing around the corner. Isaac had half a mind to chase him down and pull the man’s underwear over his head. But the long journey had drained him of all his energy, so he meandered towards the nearest seat instead.

Isaac collapsed on a plush settee tucked into a nook. The fabric was soft and colorful, pillows adorned with beads patterned into elephants. Perhaps he could catch a nap here just for an hour or two, he thought.

He wasn’t sure how long he closed his eyes before he heard a voice call his name. “Isaac?”

His eyes snapped open and he quickly sat up. A towering figure slowly came into focus, a woman as tall as a man and a half. The Fanakas’ minervae physician, Dr. Charity Asha, stood before him with her brow knit in concern. Most of her pink hair was hidden beneath a cloth wrap. She was clad in clean, simple robes of mint green.

“Oh. Dr. Asha. Hi,” the young man grunted, stretching his sore muscles. “Sorry. Um, I got really sleepy.”

Dr. Asha sat beside him, placing a hand on his leather pauldron, “You poor child,” she began, “you are bleeding and covered in filth! Those wounds are going to get infected. Come with me to the infirmary and we’ll get you taken care of.”

Though he’d much rather sleep, Isaac forced himself on his aching feet and followed her all the way to the infirmary on the other side of the palace. She’d shown him nothing but kindness in the past, but she was still an ancient and powerful minervae—a type of titan nymph that he never wanted to cross.

Evan read to him all the stories in his youth. The minervae were masterful telepaths, and not only could they see into the future, but they could bend the wills of men like flowers under the pounding rain.

On the way down one of the many lengthy corridors, Isaac asked her, “Dr. Asha? You can see the future, right?”

“Glimpses here and there, if I wish to pry,” she told him. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” Reaching into his rucksack, Isaac pulled out Destiny’s Tome of Infinity. Dr. Asha stopped in her tracks at the sight of it, her pink eyes blown wide.

Isaac went on, “A minervae named Destiny gave this to me a while back. She told me it would teach me everything she knows. Two or three nights ago I found it open in my room, turning its own pages. I think it was trying to tell me something, but the pages were all blank. If you can see the future, can you tell me when it’ll have something to say?”

Dr. Asha was stricken silent for a long moment. Carefully she reached out as if to take the tome from Isaac’s hands. She decided against it, folding her hands before her, and told him, “You hold a very precious gift, Isaac. Destiny is one of the oldest and wisest minervae I’ve ever known.”

“You knew her?” blurted Isaac.

Dr. Asha nodded. “Yes, during my time at Karenza’s temple. She was one of my mentors. If she entrusted her Tome of Infinity to you, then she must have seen something very profound in your future.”

Isaac’s eyes rounded like coins. “I gotta know what she saw! Here, look at the pages! Maybe it’ll tell you,” he urged, pushing the book towards her.

But the minervae stepped back and told him, “It is not for my eyes to see. She gave that tome to _you_ , Isaac.”

“But it’s not telling me anything!”

“Perhaps you are not meant to know yet.”

Isaac sighed, shoving the book back in his rucksack. “So I’m being bullied by a magical book,” he grumbled. “Great…”

“It’s not bullying you,” Dr. Asha chuckled. “It was clearly trying to get your attention, and you responded just the way it wanted. Knowledge is not to be stored away and forgotten. It is to be kept close to your heart.”

“But what if something happens to it? It almost burned up on the way here! I put my shirts on backwards and I forget to breathe sometimes—I can’t be trusted to carry this thing around!”

A calm smile crossed Dr. Asha’s face. “Whatever Destiny saw in your future is what shall be. She knew that when she parted with her tome.”

A long, thoughtful silence passed between them. Isaac broke the silence with a weary sigh. “What do _you_ see in my future, Doctor?”

The minervae replied sagely, “Are you sure you want to know?”

Isaac opened his mouth, holding a ‘yes’ on the tip of his tongue. But there it stayed, for once the possibility stared him in the face, he wasn’t so sure anymore. The question was a dark void, shrouded in ominous mystery.

He took too long to respond, so Dr. Asha pressed a hand to his back and guided him to the infirmary. “Knowledge is a boon as much as it is a burden,” she said. “I promise you there is a good reason that tome looks empty.”

Isaac looked up at her. “Would something bad happen if it wasn’t? Like, would it make my head explode?”

Dr. Asha shrugged. “Possibly.”

“Really?” the young man barked.

The doctor chuckled, “Only time will tell you.”

*


	2. Family Tomb

**[CHAPTER 2: FAMILY TOMB]**

Even after 2 years, there were some aspects of palace life that Evan just couldn’t get used to.

Jelani’s harem of beautiful maenads whisked him away into the “royal washroom”, which was really an outdoor garden, and began stripping off his armor in a flurry of giggles. No matter how many times he insisted he could wash himself, they ignored his wishes and dragged him into the natural pool in the garden’s center. The weather was always warm in Uekoro, and so too were its crystal-clear waters.

The maenads tossed fresh flowers and herbal soaps into the pool. Arming themselves with sea sponges, they began to vigorously attack the grime. Evan tried to advocate for himself, tried to tell them their help wasn’t necessary, but he could hardly get a word in edgewise through their chatter. They exchanged sharp-tongued gossip about the slaves, the guards, the royal family, and even their king.

Once again, Evan resigned to sitting back and letting them perform their duties. It was only a local custom, he reminded himself. It would be considered very rude on Jelani’s part if he allowed Evan to cook his own meals, button his own shirts, or even wipe his own behind. There were slaves assigned for every menial task, leaving nothing left but leisure for the upper classes.

The maenads finished washing Evan, but they were hardly done with him yet. They guided him to lay on a table nearby, where they began trimming his carpet of lycanthrope body hair. His face was shaved smooth, his hair cut and styled, and they even tended to the arrow-wound on his thigh, wrapping it tightly with gauze. Finally, they returned his prosthetic leg and wrapped him in a fine silken robe, ready to present their hard work to their king.

They led him through the door to Jelani’s bedchamber, a spacious room draped with colorful fabrics all around. The bed was enormous, enough to hold ten men at least, and topped with a canopy wrapped in green, leafy vines. Each window was open to the air, overlooking the starry sky and the warm lights of the city below.

But all this was invisible to Evan. His eyes refused to focus on anything but Jelani, reclining wantonly on the bed and wearing nothing but a cheeky smile. “Well done, ladies! He cleans up nicely, doesn’t he?” he teased.

The maenads exploded into a fit of giggles as they shoved Evan towards the bed. The mercenary stumbled, falling right into Jelani’s arms. Most of the nymphs left the room, but 3 of them stayed behind and made their way to the small performance space in the back corner. There stood a sitar, a set of pipes, and a deerskin drum, which they began to play in a slow, pulsing melody.

Jelani reached for the bottle of palm wine on the side table, pouring two goblets as Evan settled in beside him. “To our love,” smiled Jelani, and they clinked their goblets together before tipping them to eachothers’ mouths.

Evan was not so graceful. Some wine dribbled from Jelani’s goblet onto the luxurious sheets—which he was sure were worth more than his house. “Oh! Gods, I’m so sorry!” the mercenary blurted, scrambling for one of the rags on the table. He frantically dabbed at the spill, but Jelani only laughed.

Setting his goblet aside, Jelani plucked the rag from Evan’s hand and tossed it on the floor. “Don’t fret with that. These sheets will suffer plenty by the time I’m done with you,” he growled playfully and rolled over top of the mercenary.

Their lips locked together like pieces of a puzzle. Though Evan tried to relax, he was still not used to hearing music in a bedroom. Music was something he associated with public places like streets and taverns. His lycanthrope senses were acutely aware of three women and their prying eyes, and he was startled by them every time he opened his own.

Jelani must have noticed his divided attention, for he withdrew from the kiss and asked, “Is something wrong, love?”

Evan hesitated, choosing his words carefully. He didn’t want to be rude when he replied, “I’m sorry. It’s just, uh, I’m not used to this kind of thing. Having live entertainment in the bedroom, I mean.”

Jelani’s dark brows arched. “They can stop playing and join us if you want.”

“Er, no, thank you,” Evan replied carefully. “It’s just that I noticed they like to gossip. A lot.”

He felt Jelani’s laugh quaking against his belly. “Oh, don’t worry about them! The harem only talk amongst themselves. Trust me, they won’t even give peasantry the time of day. Everything that goes on in my chamber stays in my chamber.”

With that, he trapped Evan in another kiss as he pulled the front of his robe open. His kisses trailed down the mercenary’s neck, down his torso, and came to an abrupt stop at his thighs. Jelani examined the gauze wrap, expression strained with concern. “What happened here?” he asked.

“It’s nothing. Just a little arrow wound,” Evan assured him flippantly. “It’ll heal over by sunrise.”

“Is it tender? Maybe you should see Asha about this. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“ _I_ want you to hurt me,” Evan told him with a cheeky smirk.

The smirk spread to Jelani. The Uekoran king growled, “Gods, I missed you,” and sunk his teeth into the flesh of Evan’s opposite thigh. He stopped just short of drawing blood. Evan reveled in the pain, but he hated himself for it. He only wished Jelani would bite him harder so that he would bleed, wished that he could do the same to Jelani and taste his blood too, but how could he ever ask for such a repulsive thing?

It could be a slippery slope, indulging such twisted fantasies. Did they come from his heart? Or from his lycanthropy? If he bit Jelani once, would he be able to stop? Or would he be overcome by bloodlust and devour him way he devoured his own father?

The thought turned Evan’s stomach. He dragged his palms over his face, which was suddenly gleaming with sweat, and jerked his left leg from Jelani’s mouth. It was covered in saliva and circular red marks.

Jelani looked up at him, expression somewhat hurt when he asked, “Was that too hard?”

“No. I’m sorry, it’s been a long day. I’m…” Evan struggled for the right words. “…a little on edge,” he decided.

Jelani’s lips curved into a crooked smile. It looked so much like Lukas’ smile, Evan thought, and then he felt even more guilty for thinking about his ex-lover at a time like this.

Jelani said, “Well, we can’t have that. Let your king take the edge off, hm?” and he reached for the small bottle of oil on the end table. The air was thick with a flowery aroma when he uncorked it, a far cry from the rank animal fat Evan was used to back home.

The mercenary rolled over on his belly, allowing Jelani to rub the oil onto his shoulders. It was warm to the touch. It left a pleasant tingling sensation behind, was possibly magical and surely expensive. The smell of it alone calmed Evan’s nerves as Jelani massaged it down his back, all the way down between his thighs.

Before long, the king was lying over top the mercenary’s back with his arms locked around his neck, rolling his hips to the rhythm of the nymphs’ music.

Evan buried a muffled groan into a pillow. Concerned, Jelani asked, “Does it hurt, love?”

“Yes,” grunted Evan. “But don’t stop!”

Jelani laughed, full and warm in the way he did, and the two made love all through the night.

Jelani recalled the day they met, in which Evan dared to defeat him at his own fighting tournament. He wondered then if Evan was some kind of Zareenite automaton with a clockwork heart and iron lungs.

He was wondering the same now as the night wore on and he wore out, yet Evan asked him for the fourth time, “One more round?”

“Is that a joke? Gods help me, Atlas!” Jelani wheezed, collapsing on his back beside him. “Are you man or machine?”

“Horrible were-beast,” Evan reminded him, settling in by his side.

Jelani nodded, panting, “Right, right…They don’t talk about _this_ symptom in the books, do they?” After taking a moment to catch his breath, he swiped a rag from the end table and mopped his brow with it.

Evan helped himself to a sip of wine and one of the rich pastries stacked on a dish. It disappeared in two wolfish bites. Then he decided to call it a night, hugged Jelani close and pulled the blanket over them both.

Jelani dismissed the musicians, reminding them to snuff all the candles on their way out. The room faded to black. At long last, Evan was alone with his lover.

He let out a long, contented sigh and closed his eyes. Jelani pecked him on the cheek and said, “You’re going to break my heart when you leave again, Atlas.”

“That’s a whole week away,” Evan reminded him. “We’ll have plenty of time together.”

“And even more time apart…” added Jelani, his tone sullen. “So, when are you finally going to take the queen’s throne?”

Evan’s eyes snapped open. He turned to Jelani, could just barely make out his smile in the moonlight. “What?”

“It’s been _two years,_ Evan,” stressed Jelani, giving the mercenary’s hand a squeeze. “I know you’re an Evangelite country boy, but you’re in Matuzu’s court now. Men can marry here! It’s a free land! And what a lucky man you’d be, taking a king as your husband. Don’t you want to rule by my side, love?”

The mercenary’s jaw dropped, all his words jumbled together and stuck in his throat. “Uh…” He began carefully. “That sounds, um…”

“Wonderful, right?” Jelani’s white smile flashed in the darkness. “We’d have the grandest wedding Uekoro has ever seen! Imagine it, this summer when the rainbow trees are at their brightest! I’d hire entertainers from Zareen Empire, the finest money could—”

“Wait, wait,” Evan broke in. “But what about my company?”

Jelani cocked his head. “Oh, your little Good Boy business? Just sell it, love. Sign it over to Lukas; it’ll give him something to do besides sulk in his room and draw porn, or whatever he’s doing these days.”

“I…I don’t want to sell it, Jelani,” Evan told him, voice strained behind his closing throat. He felt as if some invisible hand was choking him to death. “I’ve told you before, this line of work is my life! It makes me happy. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

The king’s head remained tilted to the side, eyes cutting through Evan like a knife. “Don’t _I_ make you happy?” he asked.

Evan replied quickly, “Yes, you do! It’s just—”

“And you do love me, don’t you?”

“Of course!”

“So why on Gaia,” began Jelani, pushing himself upright, “would you choose anything else over me?”

Evan explained, “I haven’t chosen anything! You must understand, this is a very big decision to make—”

“But it should not be a difficult one!” Jelani said sharply. “I’ve given you two whole years to make this decision. Don’t you know how much it hurts to be away from you? I’ve only tolerated that pain because I assumed that someday it would come to an end!”

He grasped both of Evan’s hands in his own, squeezing them firmly. “I want you _here_ , with me. Relocate your entire crew if you must! I’ll cover all of their expenses, so long as it means I’ll never have to watch you leave again.”

Evan opened his mouth to argue, then quickly snapped it shut. He was much too exhausted for this conversation now. He’d be much too exhausted for it even at his best. He and his crew had been tip-toeing their way around it more and more as the months passed, but now it was screaming in their faces, demanding attention.

Of course he couldn’t just relocate his crew. The Freelance Good Guys’ compound was interwoven with the village of Drifter’s Hollow. The mercenaries had grown to love the village and their neighbors, and he was certain that if he moved the compound, not everyone would be willing to come with it.

Most notably, Lukas. Evan couldn’t bear the thought of parting with his most beloved friend. The thought of parting with Jelani, well…

The reality hit Evan just then. His jaw dropped, skin breaking out into a cold sweat when he realized…

He was not in love with Jelani.

Sure, there was a comfortable familiarity about the man. He put Evan in mind of Lukas in so many ways. But when he really dug deep, he had to admit to himself that he did not feel the same love for Jelani as he always felt for Lukas.

His feelings towards the king were purely carnal. It was not love, he realized, but _lust_ he’d been feeling for the last two years. The doubt had always been there and he only pushed it down, denied and denied, but he could deny it no more.

His heart had been choosing Lukas over Jelani all along.

“Well? What say you, Atlas?” urged Jelani. “Will you stay as a backwater peasant, or will you marry me and become a king?”

“I…” Evan’s voice cracked and trailed off, the silence heavier than stone. He cleared his throat and finished, “I need to sort some things out back home first.”

Jelani stared at him for what felt like hours. Evan couldn’t even breathe until the king finally settled back into the bed. “Of course, love. Do whatever you need to do. Just remember, you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll help you with anything you want, just say the word.” After a yawn, he closed his eyes and added, “Goodnight, Atlas. I love you.”

The vague answer seemed to satisfy him. Such an answer would have never passed Lukas’ scrutiny, further reminding Evan that they were, in fact, two very different people. The mercenary let out the long breath he’d apparently been holding, though he knew he’d only prolonged an inevitable disaster.

He couldn’t ignore this dilemma for much longer. Either he went through with this marriage and accepted his new lot in life, or he found a tactful way to call off the relationship and pray things didn’t get messy between them.

The last thing the Freelance Good Guys needed was an enemy with ties to Matuzu Kingdom’s royal family, with great influence and an entire military at his disposal, and who knew their captain’s weaknesses. Jelani would be a fearsome enemy indeed.

Evan planted a soft kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, Jelani,” he said, and fell asleep in his arms.

*

The abrasive wail of emergency sirens blared throughout Uekoro.

Isaac was startled awake, flinging himself out of the guest bed and onto the floor. The first thing he did was check on Destiny’s Tome of Infinity, tucked in the rucksack beside the bed. The second thing he did was hastily slip on his boots, listening to the heavy footfalls of Uekoran palace guards rushing up and down the hall. Their shouts were unintelligible behind the heavy door.

Isaac pulled a coat over his pajamas, slung his rucksack on his shoulder and hurried down the hall. It seemed everyone else had the same idea, for the rest of the mercenaries had converged in the atrium with several guards, slaves, and palace staff.

Most of them were half-dressed and clearly groggy. Glancing out the window, Isaac could still see morning mist rising off the jungle into the golden sky.

Anxious chatter swelled throughout the group until their king appeared. He stood at the top of the curved stairway balcony, overlooking them all with Evan by his side. They were both wearing robes with nothing on their feet, and likely nothing underneath.

“Attention, guests and servants!” announced Jelani. “We have just received an urgent message from Matuzu Capital! The capital city is suffering a widespread attack by unknown forces!”

The chatter only grew more harried. Glenvar shouted above the rest, “So is breakfast still on, or…?”

Jelani chose to ignore him and continued, “This is all the information we have so far! I will meet with Uekoran officials and make a speech to our people shortly! In the meantime, the palace will be in a state of lockdown for your safety! No one is permitted to go in or out until further notice! That is all.”

With that, the king turned and disappeared down the hall, flanked by four guards. Evan went the opposite direction, rushing down the stairs to meet his crew below. They circled him in a flurry of questions.

“What’s going on?” asked Alaine.

“Mr. Atlas, are we trapped in here?” added Jeimos.

“So much for our vacation!” crowed Glenvar.

“So much for going home!” griped Lukas.

Evan raised his hands to settle their chatter. He said, “I know little more than you do, guys. Some guards barged in and woke us up not ten minutes ago with the news.”

“What kind of idiots would attack Matuzu Capital?” blurted Lukas. “Capital security’s tighter than a whore’s corset! If they had any brains, they’d pick off some podunk towns like Zhoulcha or Rokkas…”

Shaking his head, Evan said, “I think this might be serious. I want you all to suit up and meet me back here in an hour.”

The mercenaries obeyed without question, hurrying off back to their suites. They returned to the atrium fully armed and armored, and by then, guards were beginning to escort everyone away.

Slaves and staff were funneled out into the courtyard, but the mercenaries joined Jelani on the highest balcony as his honored guests. They stood back and listened as he delivered a speech to a massive crowd of Uekorans. They flooded the street below like a cluster of ants.

“My people, as some of you may have already heard, there has been an attack on Matuzu’s capital city. The invasion is still ongoing. The motives behind the attack or who is responsible is not yet known. We’ve received reports that dark magic is at play and Capital officials are struggling to control the situation…”

Discreetly glancing at the notes in his hand, Jelani continued, “As proud Matuzans, we will do our part to defend our great kingdom. I have already signed an order dispatching one thousand Uekoran soldiers to Matuzu Capital. May the gods bless these brave men and our people in these troubling times. Now, I will let Security Chief Moziya speak to you about how you can protect your families and our village.”

Jelani nodded towards a decorated soldier, who stepped up and took the king’s place on the balcony. As the security chief made his announcements, Jelani beckoned the Freelance Good Guys to follow him back into the palace.

He dismissed his guards so that he may speak to them privately in the hall, scrubbing wearily at his bald head when he apologized, “I’m sorry about all this, friends. What a damn mess!”

“The dragonports are shut down, aren’t they?” Lukas asked flatly.

Jelani nodded. “Yes, no traffic will be allowed in or out of Uekoro until further notice. The capital city is only a stone’s throw to the south of us. Gods forbid that nonsense spreads this way…”

“Destiny!” Isaac suddenly gasped. He clutched Evan’s cape, shaking it frantically as he rambled, “Destiny’s in the capital city! Oh, god! What if something happens to her?”

“There’s no safer place on Gaia than the World Athenaeum,” Evan assured him. “I’m sure security is keeping her safe.”

“But if she gets killed, then—” Isaac pulled the Tome of Infinity from his rucksack. “—this thing goes with her! She knew my name, Evan! She knows something about me, and this book is the only way I’ll find out what!” The young man was nearly vibrating with anxiety.

“Isaac, calm down! You’re being hysterical!” Evan told him sternly, jerking his cape from his grasp.

“Who is this now?” asked Jelani. “You have a friend at the capital?”

Evan explained, “Yes, but she’s an Athenaeum researcher. We were privileged enough to visit the Athenaeum once before, and I can tell you from personal experience that the gods themselves couldn’t breach that place!”

Just then, the Tome of Infinity opened in Isaac’s hands. He shrieked and jumped away from it, but there it hovered in the air, turning its own pages as it did before. The king and the mercenaries stood in awe, silent and slack-jawed.

Isaac glanced around at them. They were gazing back expectantly. Taking a deep breath, Isaac cautiously approached the mysterious tome and took it back into his hands.

The pages turned themselves, back and forth several times before stopping on the very last page. Text began to appear, as if being scrawled by an invisible hand. The penmanship was elegant and looping.

“It’s saying something! I told you! C’mere, look, look!” he announced. Reluctantly, the others moved closer and looked over his shoulder.

Isaac read aloud as the text revealed itself,

“… _I foresaw his arrival long ago. Though I told the guards of my vision, their preparations were not enough and could never be. I heard word of corpses rising from the Capital Cemetery, clawing their way out of their graves to terrorize the living. It was only the first sign of his chaos, and while the city guard was preoccupied, his army descended upon the Athenaeum on the backs of flying beasts_ …”

The page turned itself and a new one had somehow materialized behind it. Destiny’s story continued, “… _nymphs of flame and walking skeletons dropped from the sky. They slaughtered eleven guards right before my eyes as my sisters and I ran to the safe room. We were intercepted by a pyriad who threatened to burn our tomes. She forced us outside to the courtyard, where we were captured by the man in the golden jackal mask_ …”

“Jackal mask?” blurted Jeimos. “Chaps, that’s—”

“Hold on, there’s more!” said Isaac. He read on, “It says…’ _I laid eyes upon him for the second time in my life, and the dread that overcame me was even stronger than before. He is Mankind’s Disgrace, the Divine of Hatred. He is taking us away on a flying two-headed beast, the likes of which I have never seen. He must seek knowledge of Mother Karenza, but I shall tell him nothing of her. I fear what he will do to us_ —”

The book snapped shut without warning. It fell still and lifeless in Isaac’s hands. His frantic eyes darted around at each of his crewmen as they exchanged silent expressions of horror.

Planting his hands on his hips, Glenvar imitated Evan’s accent when he said, “’The gods themselves couldn’t breach that place!’”

“Alright, alright! No need to rub my nose in it,” the captain grumbled. He turned to Jelani, told him, “I think we know who’s responsible for the attack. Would you be willing to spare a few more soldiers to help us chase him down?”

Jelani raised an eyebrow. “How many do you need?”

Evan paused in thought. Then he asked, “How many you got?”

*

The Freelance Good Guys spent all morning preparing for a dangerous excursion to Matuzu Capital.

With little else to go on, the mercenaries packed enough food and supplies to see them through a week, just in case they became trapped in the city. An attendant fetched Shadow from the royal stables and led her to the courtyard, where several palace slaves waited with the mercenaries’ luggage. As they loaded it into Shadow’s gazebo, a battalion of five hundred Uekoran soldiers boarded their dragons at the port.

Dark clouds were rolling in seemingly out of nowhere. Rain started to fall. A harem girl followed Jelani around with a palm frond, using it to shield him from the rain as he rushed out to the courtyard. He approached Evan, still loading his things into the gazebo, and panted, “Evan, wait! I just got more news from the capital!”

Evan called his crewmen over while Jelani took a brief moment to catch his breath. The king went on, “That divine’s forces are retreating! They left the city less than an hour ago!”

Evan grinned. “Ah, excellent!”

“No, _not_ excellent,” Jelani wheezed, “because they’re headed _north_! What lies north of the capital, Evan?” He shook his hands before him, his voice more frantic with every word.

Before Evan could get a word out, Uekoro’s emergency sirens blared again. The slaves and mercenaries stopped what they were doing, looking towards the sky. They heard faint screams swell from the city in the distance, and then they saw hundreds of black figures break through the clouds.

Like a flock of birds, the figures flew in a chaotic formation with one larger figure at the helm. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped around them, rain pounding down upon the city as if to punish it. Every guard on the premises sprung into action at the sight, barking orders and running about to corral stray staff.

Two guards flanked Jelani and began leading him back to the palace. “Come with us, my king! We will escort you to safety,” one told him, but the blood-curdling screams that suddenly erupted from the palace said otherwise.

An elven slave was hanging out of a second-floor window above, calling for help. Evan recognized her as Sabrani, the elderly servant who tended to him on his first visit to Uekoro. Her creaky voice was unmistakable as she called, “Guards, guards! Help us! Please help us! They’re—”

Her pleas ended with a long, terrible shriek as she was suddenly jerked back into the room. Her panicked screams came to an abrupt stop. Jelani’s guards turned to one another, rethinking their plan.

Evan already had one of his own. He turned to his crew and called, “Good Guys, hear me! Ready your weapons and sweep the palace for hostiles! Let’s go!”

The 5 crewmen unsheathed their weapons and followed their captain through the great double-doors. The atrium was strangely barren, but they could hear faint shouts and chaos from deeper inside.

“Which way should we go?” asked Alaine.

Evan began to answer, then they looked up when they heard a strange sound from above. An elderly man staggered out to the balcony where the two curving staircases converged. He was dressed in black robes with a sheer black veil obscuring his face, gurgling incoherently.

“Are you injured, sir? We’re the Freelance Good Guys, we’re here to help!” announced Evan. The man did not reply. The mercenaries gasped as he tumbled over the railing, hitting the tiles with a sickening crack. There he writhed in a heap of robes and mangled limbs.

Evan and his crew rushed forth to offer their aid. The man craned his neck at them from an unnatural angle, the veil slipping from his face. The mercenaries cried out in horror, for he had the shriveled, gray flesh and the dusty stench of a long-dead corpse.

One of his arms lie detached on the floor, the other reaching out to swipe at them. It was little more than mottled flesh and bone with several missing fingers, and those that remained crackled like dry leaves.

Upon his chin were the remnants of a gray beard, upon his remaining fingers several jeweled rings. His robes, though ancient, were finely embroidered with beads and gems, and he wore alligator skin shoes on his twisted feet.

Lukas stared into the two sunken, empty holes in the corpse’s face. It stared right back, growls rasping as it swiped helplessly at him. Lukas swallowed the acid in his throat. “Gra…grandfather?” he stammered.

His crewmen turned to him, baffled. Lukas slapped a palm against his forehead, dragging it down his weary face as he groaned, “Oh, no…Gods, please, this can’t be happening!”

“Lukas, what’s going on?” Evan demanded sharply.

Swiftly nocking an arrow in his bow, Lukas fired it straight between his undead grandfather’s eyes. In an instant, the corpse sunk limply against the floor, silent and still as it should have been in the first place. “The family tomb’s been compromised,” he said, then he took off down the center corridor. “Follow me!”

The others obeyed, trailing Lukas through a maze of hallways until they reached a long, descending staircase. A warm light was glowing from somewhere at the bottom, feminine shouts echoing off the stone walls.

Lukas led the way down. They reached the bottom of the stairs and peeked through an open door. Inside was a massive, open room divided by stone pillars. Between the pillars were dozens of fine wooden caskets.

Each casket’s lid was sitting wide open. It seemed the corpses inside had escaped and were now engaging in battle with 4 sword-wielding harem ladies. The maenads moved with the strength and agility of panthers, swinging their blades as if they were extensions of their own bodies.

The mercenaries watched in awe as they fought a horde of shambling zombies, dodging swiping hands and biting teeth before driving their swords through their foes’ heads. One by one, the zombies dropped. They did not get up again.

When the last of them lie still, one of the maenads turned to the mercenaries and announced, “We’re too late! They’ve already spread through the whole palace! Master Lukas, you must get out of here at once!”

“I’m not going anywhere!” barked Lukas. “These are _my_ shitty ancestors, and I’m not leaving until they’re all back in their shitty boxes where they belong!”

Evan stepped forward and said, “Those were some impressive moves, ladies! Perhaps you would lend us a hand? Judging by all these open caskets, we’re going to need as much help as we can get.”

The harem ladies briefly huddled together, exchanging whispers. Then they turned back to him and one replied, “We’re all on board. Just lead the way, handsome!”

Their scant two-piece garments were made entirely of gold coins, which jingled loudly as they followed the mercenaries back up the stairs. An undead woman stumbled in front of them just as they stepped into the hall, seizing Alaine by her arm.

The mermaid reacted in a flash, jamming the handle of her spear into the corpse’s mouth before kicking it to the floor, then stomping its head in. Bone fragments and dry, dusty meat gushed beneath her boot. The others gagged at the sight.

“Ew! God, why do they have so much meat on them?” Alaine wailed with a full-body shudder.

“It’s our embalming process,” Lukas sighed. “I don’t know what Asha uses, but it keeps them fresh for _years_. A lot of them probably still have some muscle, so be careful.”

Another scream ripped through the corridor, likely that of a fearful slave. The sound was muffled as if it were coming from behind a door. “There are still people in here,” mentioned Evan. “We can rescue them faster if we split up into teams. Alaine and Glenvar, I want you to search the bottom floor—”

“Aw, bless yer heart, Chief! If I was a merryman, I’d kiss ya,” Glenvar sighed with relief.

Evan smiled and continued, “Well, I know how you feel about stairs. Lukas, you and I will take the second floor. Jeimos and Isaac, third floor.”

“What about us, master?” asked one of the maenads.

Evan told them, “You four stay together and search the basement. If you find any victims, escort them to the courtyard. Everyone got it?”

The group shared a collective nod and then went their separate ways.

“We have to find Sabrani,” Evan said as he hurried up the stairs with Lukas.

“Who?” the archer queried.

“Sabrani, one of your family’s slaves?” Evan explained, shooting him an odd look. “How could you not know her? She told me she’s been here since before you were born.”

With a roll of his eyes, Lukas told him, “Oh, please! Did you know the names of all _your_ slaves growing up?”

“Yes,” Evan said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“Ugh. Well, aren’t you perfect as always,” grumbled Lukas. “There was only one slave I ever cared about. We both know how that ended, so why bother getting attached to any of them?”

“You really missed out on Sabrani. She’s a lovely person. I really hope she’s alright...” Evan said, expression hardened with worry as they made their way down the hallway to the left.

Rows of doors stretched down the walls. The duo opened them one by one, giving each room a visual sweep to check for victims. As they exited another room, they heard a heavy thump around the corner.

They froze, listening closely. The thump was followed by another, then another, accompanied by wretched gurgles. Evan pressed a finger to his lips and led the way, creeping up to the corner of the hallway.

They peeked around the wall. Just a short distance away, they spotted a hulking corpse with a long beard repeatedly throwing itself against a door. A guard lie dead nearby, a trail of blood leading from his torn throat to the corpse’s mouth. Like all the others, the zombie was clad in black Uekoran death garb.

“Shit,” Lukas hissed. “Uncle Zizi? I didn’t even know he died! Would it have killed my brother to send a letter?”

“Looks like he passed recently too,” added Evan. “I’m so sorry, Lukas. Would you like me to…?”

Lukas shook his head, already nocking an arrow. “No. It’s alright,” he said, and an instant later, his deceased uncle lie motionless on the ground.

Lukas and Evan cautiously approached the body, watching for any sign of movement. Lukas plucked the arrow from the corpse’s eye and nocked it once more, watching for targets while Evan inspected the dead guard.

“What kind of zombies are we dealing with?” asked Lukas. “The infectious kind or the boring kind?”

Evan kneeled beside the guard. “I’d hardly call them _boring_ ,” he answered. “But no, they’re not infectious. The infectious ones tend to drool, and Uncle Zizi there is drier than the Serkel Desert.”

“But they hunger for flesh,” mentioned Lukas.

Standing up, Evan sighed, “I don’t think they hunger. They’re just here to spread fear and misery any way they can.”

The captain tried to open the door. It was locked. Knocking upon it, Evan called, “Hello? Freelance Good Guys! We’re here to rescue you!”

After a moment, it opened just a crack. One slanted eye peeked at them, then the door flew open and an elven child burst out. A waterfall of sobs came out of the boy as he clung to Evan’s false leg. “Please help us, please! There’s scary monsters everywhere and they’re eating people!” he wailed.

Evan lifted the child into his arms. The boy was clad in dull rags, iron shackles locked around each wrist. He was likely one of the drudgers, the lowliest of palace slaves.

“It’s alright, son. We won’t let the monsters get you,” Evan told him. “Is there anyone else in there?”

“No, just me,” the boy sniffled. “Me ‘n Sabrani were cleaning the floors and—and we found a dead body! We went to tell the guard, b-but he got killed, and then—and then—” The child’s breath quickened. He began to choke on his own tears.

Evan stopped him and asked, “Where is Sabrani? Do you know?”

The boy pointed back to the room he came from. “She told me to go in there, then she—she said she was gonna get help. But she didn’t come back! She left me here all alone!”

“I see,” mumbled Evan. He thought for a moment, then placed the boy back into the room. “Listen to me,” he began. “I want you to stay in this room and lock the door. Do not open it for _anyone_ who can’t tell you their name. We’re going to find more of your friends and bring them here. We’ll come back for you all once the monsters are gone. Understand?”

“No! Please! D-don’t leave me! I’m scared! I want Sabrani!” the child sobbed, clinging to Evan’s leg once again.

Lukas kneeled down to pry his tiny hands away, telling him sternly, “Stop your whining, drudger! You have my word we’ll return for you whether we find her or not. Now get back in there, lock that door, and don’t make a sound until we get back. That’s an order.”

Reluctantly the elfin nodded, then disappeared back into the room. The mercenaries listened for the click of the lock before they moved on down the opposite corridor. They noticed tiny drops of fresh blood on the floor.

The drops became more frequent as they moved forward, discovering a trail of red splatters that led them to a guest room. The door was smeared with bloody handprints and left slightly ajar. The mercenaries leaned in, listening closely. There were wet crackling sounds coming from the other side, like a ravenous dog tearing through a carcass.

“Get ready,” whispered Evan, raising his shield as Lukas pulled back an arrow. Evan kicked the door wide open with a bang, only to reel back in horror at the sight before him.

The window was open, drapes billowing in the breeze. Lying on the floor just beneath it was the eviscerated remains of a slave, probably elven by the length of it, and a zombie crouched over them.

Startled by the bang, the zombie whipped its face towards the mercenaries. Gore oozed from its mouth, clawing hands and robes drenched with blood. A pair of round glasses sat askew on its face, which was remarkably well-preserved. If the mercenaries didn’t know better, they could have mistaken it for a living elderly woman.

But she was not living. Lukas knew that for certain, because he killed her 2 years ago. She was the former matriarch of the Fanaka family, Queen of Uekoro, his mother and his worst nightmare.

Lukas thought he would never have to see Moswen’s wretched face again. But the Divine of Hatred had other plans, and now in a cruel twist of fate, his greatest enemy had clawed her way out of the grave just to terrorize him one last time.

The archer turned to stone before her. His feet would not move, nor would his arrow fire. Evan noticed the intense emotion in his commander’s eyes and the tremble in his hands. Then he turned back to Moswen, for she clumsily stood up and bared her bloody teeth.

Of all the corpses they’d encountered so far, Moswen’s was by far the freshest, for her chest was heaving with ragged, noisy breaths as if there were still functioning lungs inside her.

Behind filthy lenses, her eyes were glassy and nearly colorless. But there was no doubt they were full of fury as they fixated directly on Lukas. She pointed one shaking, decrepit finger at her traitorous son and let out a rasping screech.

In that instant she lurched forward, staggering towards him with her arms outstretched. Whether to embrace him or rip into him was impossible to tell at a glance, but the anger on her face said it all.

Evan jumped in front of Lukas, shield raised and sword ready to strike. But just as quickly, Lukas tossed his bow down and shoved Evan aside, launching himself towards Moswen with a furious howl. Evan watched, dumbfounded, as his best friend tackled his undead mother to the floor and began beating her to a pulp.

Lukas straddled her waist, holding her down as his fists crashed against her face over and over again. Her glasses shattered, her nose caved, false teeth flying every which way with every impact.

“How dare you! How dare you have the gall to show your face again!” he screamed. “You evil, sorry excuse for a woman! This is for the misery you caused your children! This is for your people! This is for everything you ever did to Itanya, you fucking _wretch_!”

“Lukas!” exclaimed Evan, rushing to the scene. He seized Lukas by his arms and dragged him off the corpse, kicking and screaming. “Lukas, that’s enough! Please!”

Lukas ceased his struggle, panting harshly in Evan’s grip. His fists were filthy with ancient, black blood, and the same blood was splattered onto his face, all down the front of his leather chest plate.

He glared at Moswen—or what was left of her—lying motionless ahead. Her head was smashed into paste, removing her identity and all possibility that she would ever come back to haunt him again.

“On your feet. There we are,” mumbled Evan, pulling his friend up to a standing position. He pulled him into a tight hug and told him, “It’ll be alright, friend. Just breathe, okay?”

Only then did Lukas realize how shallow and harried his breaths were. He forced himself to inhale deeply through his nose, then exhaled slowly through his mouth. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes, his throat caught in a vice. If he were to cry, it would only be out of sheer rage, he decided.

He turned away from Moswen’s body, closing his eyes tightly. Once it was gone from his sight and his heart stopped hammering, he realized it was not even she that he was angry with.

He drew away from Evan, swiping his bow off the floor. His voice was worn and ragged when he said, “We need to find Disgrace. And this time, we need to put him down for good. I don’t care what it takes.”

The captain sighed, “I agree completely. But let’s clean up the rest of his mess and make sure everyone’s safe first.” Gesturing to the elven corpse lying by the window, he added solemnly, “And, uh…one of us needs to tell that poor boy about Sabrani.”

*

Between the efforts of the guards, mercenaries, and harem ladies, the palace was deemed secure within the hour. Slaves began dragging the dead away back to their tombs as Jelani stepped back inside.

Fists shaking with anger, the king shouted at them, “I want those caskets nailed shut, do you hear me? Wrap them in chains and seal them with cement! I’ll be damned before this happens again!”

He gagged at the sights and smells of his mutilated ancestors. They were carried by on stretchers, some of them little more than severed body parts piled together. A young drudger trailed two servants holding a stretcher, an elfin, crying loudly with tears running down his face.

The king whipped his gaze towards the boy. “What are you crying for, drudger?” he snapped. He grabbed the elfin’s wrist, gesturing to his own face when he shouted, “It is _I_ who should have tears in my eyes, not you! I had to watch my parents die for the second time today, and what have you done?” He began swatting the boy wherever his strikes would land. “Nothing! Not a damn thing! How dare you cry in my presence, you disrespectful little—”

“Jelani, stop that! Please, calm down!” cried Evan, rushing towards him from the corridor. He shoved himself between the king and the wailing slave boy. Only then did Jelani release the elfin, who sprinted away in tears. The king swiped the crown of beads off his head and scrubbed at his weary face. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Evan said, “We’ll be leaving in a few minutes. Disgrace will pay for this, I promise you.”

“See that he fucking does!” growled Jelani. He placed his crown back on, silent for the moment as he closed his eyes and exhaled his anger. His voice was still tinged with bitterness when he added, “I spoke with my beastmasters earlier. They’re willing to spare personal dragons for each of you.”

Evan’s brows arched. “What? Really? But—Jelani, none of us know how to pilot a dragon!”

“There’s nothing to know. These aren’t battle mounts,” Jelani told him. “Don’t expect high speeds or fancy tricks. They’re docile, steady-flying things. Mules of the dragon world, you could say.”

“I don’t know…”

“Trust me, it’s just like riding a horse,” Jelani assured him, forcing a smile. He clapped a hand on Evan’s back and began leading him outside. “The guards tell me Disgrace and his forces have passed Uekoro. They are continuing north to the savannah. Thanks gods the villagers burn their dead or we’d have a city-wide disaster on our hands!”

“Everyone’s okay?” asked Evan.

Jelani shrugged. “More or less. Things could have been far, far worse.” Stopping in the courtyard, he seized the neck of Evan’s cape and pulled him into a kiss. When he withdrew, he said, “There are five hundred soldiers waiting for you at the dragonport, and I’ve appointed you as their marshal. Thanks for everything, love. Be careful out there.”

Evan smiled. “Of course, Your Highness.”

*


	3. The Stormbender

**[CHAPTER 3: THE STORMBENDER]**

The mercenaries made their way to the dragonport, which was crowded with Uekoran soldiers and their dragon mounts. The Uekorans’ lime-green armor and colorful feathers stood out against the dull, brown skin of the cargo dragons. They were colossal beasts with elephant-like hind legs and smaller, clawed legs in front. Their long necks stretched the same length as their tails, and their wingspan was even longer.

Upon the cargo dragons’ backs were long gazebos that could seat several dozen men. In their clawed legs they carried an additional gazebo through the sky. Alongside the cargo dragons were Matuzan battle dragons, red scaly beasts with colorful, feathered wings and long beaks. They were far smaller, only fit to carry two soldiers on their backs at a time, but they were fierce and agile creatures unlike the gentle cargo beasts.

The Freelance Good Guys were granted neither. Rather, they were given stocky, short-legged mounts that looked not unlike reptilian badgers. They had four insectoid wings protected by green iridescent shells. There was nothing agile about them.

The mercenaries inspected the creatures with looks of doubt. Alaine turned to Lukas and queried, “Are you sure these things can fly?”

Lukas shrugged. “Well enough, I guess. In _Galsungi_ we call them ‘ _ala_ - _beguzo_ ’.”

“Yeah? And what’s that mean in _Universa_?” asked Glenvar.

“Sky-donkey,” Lukas told him, then swung his leg over one of the creatures’ backs. It let out a low, flatulent groan through its nostrils as it ripped a weed from the soil, grinding it slowly between flat teeth.

A smile spread across Jeimos’ face. They decided, “Well, I think they’re simply delightful! They seem much _safer_ than those awful things the soldiers are riding.” The elf climbed onto the sky-donkey and patted its furry neck. “I shall call this one Claris. Come now, Claris! Off we go!”

With no other choice, the mercenaries mounted their awkward dragons and took off into the sky. All but Isaac, who chose to ride his faithful roc, and it was he who led the fleet through the clouds.

The rain stopped when Disgrace’s minions passed. But the sky remained ominously dark, even as the fleet left the jungle and passed into the savannah. Within hours they were flying over desert scrub, and after that was nothing but rolling sand dunes as far as the eye could see.

The clouds became darker the further they travelled. The rain poured harder, the wind blew stronger, and then it began to storm. Fear was slowly working its way into Isaac’s heart as the storm grew nearer. It was a fear he didn’t understand, an ancient unrest that had always been with him. Foul weather plagued his nightmares more than anything else.

Evan surveyed the land through a pair of binoculars as his dragon hovered steadily in the sky. He thought he could see a pointed silhouette jutting out against the dunes far ahead, but he had little chance to inspect it before his dragon began to fuss. Its wings vibrated loudly on either side of him, working hard to fight a gust of wind.

Evan held its reigns tight, trying to keep the beast steady. It tilted left and right, kicking its clawed feet in the air. Rain splattered against the mercenaries’ flight goggles as the wind pushed against them. The weather was fouling more by the second.

In the distant sky, they could see something like a swirling cyclone of black clouds, from which bolts of lightning were flashing like electric snakes. The desert boomed and quaked with thunder.

“It’s gettin’ real nasty out here, Chief!” Glenvar hollered over the wind, just barely audible. Evan was inclined to agree.

The captain raised a war horn to his lips, granted to him by Jelani. Its sound carried to every soldier’s ear to signal an emergency landing.

A cacophony of beasts cried out as their masters suddenly guided them downwards. The behemoth cargo dragons, the swift war dragons, and the bumbling sky-donkeys all descended until every last soldier was grounded. The Uekoran army was a colorful cluster in the otherwise barren desert. There they rested, enjoying coffee and food rations while they awaited orders.

The Freelance Good Guys sought eachother in the crowd and converged behind a cargo dragon. The massive beast shielded them from the wind and sand as they plotted their next move.

“Pretty weird that it’s pissing rain in the desert, don’t you think?” mused Alaine.

Evan said, “There is no way this weather is natural. It seems to follow Disgrace. See that dark spot in the sky?” He pointed to the black cyclone above. “I’ll bet my last coin there’s a sylph in there. He must have done something to enrage her.”

“Ya say ‘sylph’ like I’m supposed to know what that is,” said Glenvar.

“They’re titan nymphs, Glen,” snapped Lukas. “We’ve dealt with them before, remember? Back in Evik?”

The portly man cocked his head. “Evik? Ah, I was probably drunk off my arse. Those dworfs really know how to make a stiff drink…”

Evan explained, “Sylphs are master galemancers. That means they use magic to control the air. If we send the whole fleet after her, she will surely summon a hurricane and wipe us all out—”

“Are you saying we have to camp in this godforsaken desert until that bitch calms down?” asked Alaine.

Sitting atop Shadow’s back, Isaac exclaimed, “We don’t have time! Destiny’s in trouble—it said so right here in the book!” He patted the rucksack tightly strapped over his shoulder, fastened to his belt.

“Guys, please! Let me finish before you complain,” replied Evan, raising his palms. “Once a sylph is enraged, there is nothing that can calm them. One of us will have to sneak up on her and take her down. Preferably someone who knows a thing or two about pyromancy.”

Evan’s gaze flicked towards Jeimos. His crews’ gazes followed. The elf’s jaw dropped, pressing their gloved hands to their chest as they blurted, “ _Me_? Chaps, I can’t be expected to kill a sylph! Not on my own! There is no way!”

“Isaac will accompany you,” Evan told them.

Isaac’s head snapped towards the captain. “I will?”

“Yes, you will,” said Evan. “No one can fly a dragon half as well as you fly that bird. Take Jeimos into the cyclone and get them as close to the sylph as possible. It shouldn’t be too difficult to defeat her; those creatures burn like paper.”

Equally flattered and annoyed, Isaac grumbled something under his breath as he pulled the rucksack off his shoulder. He tossed it to Evan and said, “Fine. Just hold this. You know, in case we get blown into space or something.”

The captain smiled and said, “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Then he and his crew waved as Shadow ascended. She carried Isaac in her saddle, Jeimos clutching her left leg as they stood on her talon. Confused mutterings spread through the army. They could only watch as the two mercenaries set off on their brave, foolish mission.

Shadow bolted through the air, her powerful wings cutting through the wind. The gusts were manic in their direction. So too the roc had to be, dashing this way and that to ride the current. Her black feathers obscured her against the ominous sky. Between the darkness, pounding rain, and flashing lightning, Isaac piloted the roc all the way into the cyclone seemingly unnoticed.

Shadow breached through a thick wall of clouds. Isaac’s eyes rounded behind his flight goggles, for they were suddenly cruising through clear, blue skies. They were above the storm, they realized, and they were not alone in this lofty place. Isaac spotted a silhouette hovering in the distance.

It had great, feathery wings flapping from its back not unlike a roc’s. But its figure was much like a human skeleton stretched to twice its height, elongated arms reaching outward. Its long, silvery hair flowed gracefully in the breeze. It hovered there, staring down at the clouds below. It had yet to notice Shadow approaching from the east.

Isaac wondered if Jeimos saw it. He did not want to announce it, feared raising his voice and alerting it. His question was answered when a ball of fire shot out from beneath Shadow. It sailed towards the sylph, blew right passed it and disintegrated into the atmosphere.

Isaac’s heart skipped a beat. The sylph whirled around to face the mercenaries. They certainly had her attention now.

Her face was hideous and gaunt, teeth exposed like a fleshless skull. A hole was opened in her forehead like that of a third eye, and within all the holes glowed yellow orbs of light. Her jaw fell wide open and a high, whistling screech erupted from her, carrying over all the desert. Jeimos launched another fireball. The sylph beat her wings and darted out of its path.

“Hold on tight, Jay! I’ll try to get closer!” shouted Isaac. He jerked Shadow’s reigns and the roc tilted sharply downwards, plummeting into the ocean of clouds. The sylph willed magic to her fingertips and thin strands of lightning blasted from all ten of them. It arced through the clouds below, flashing all around Shadow as she glided through the mist.

Deafening thunderclaps followed shortly. Startled, Shadow began screeching and gave away her location. Isaac cursed as he was forced to make his next move prematurely, and he guided her upwards. She breached the clouds again, narrowly missing a chain of lightning, and rammed directly into the sylph.

The titan nymph went spinning away in her wake, but quickly regained her balance and shot a concentrated bolt of lightning from her fingertips. The bolt missed Shadow by only a feather’s length. Isaac felt its electricity dissipating around him, his curly hair standing on end.

He quickly turned Shadow around. Jeimos launched another fireball as they neared their target. Veins of electricity flashed around the sylph for just a brief moment, forming a bubble. The fireball crashed into it and exploded with a bright flash and a loud crackle.

Isaac realized she had encased herself in a shield of electricity. But he realized too late, for Shadow was already speeding towards her with talons outstretched. The young mercenary desperately pulled her reigns with all his might, screaming as the bird tumbled into a sudden nosedive. She spun passed the sylph and down into the clouds, fighting for control in the violent winds.

Far down in the desert below, the army stood in awe of the storm. Fire and lightning lit up the sky in a brilliant display, though from Isaac and Jeimos’ angle, things were not so beautiful.

Isaac gnashed his teeth and wrestled with the roc’s reigns, brown knuckles turning white beneath his gloves. He was trying to pull her out of the nosedive, but she spun faster and faster with each revolution and the ground was fast approaching.

Jeimos lost their grip on her talon. The elf was flung into the air, screaming and flailing until they suddenly disappeared in a burst of white light. Commanding Shadow to ascend wasn’t working. Though his head was spinning—quite literally—Isaac thought of another plan that he was just desperate enough to try.

“Shadow, brake! _Braaake_!” he shouted. Instantly the roc obeyed, despite her every instinct telling her not to. She stopped her frantic flapping and stretched her wings straight out to her sides. Normally Isaac used this command to slow her down for a landing. But in this case, it slowed her rotations just enough for her to gain control again when he commanded, “Up-up!”

The army below let out a collective gasp when the roc dipped low, just barely grazing the dunes before tilting upwards into the sky once more. She screeched victoriously, soldiers and crewmen roaring with cheers.

“You okay, Jeimos?” queried Isaac. There was no reply. Only then did he realize the elf was thrown, and a quick scan over the landscape turned up nothing.

For high above the storm opened a portal between dimensions. Jeimos tumbled out of it, kicking and screaming in a panic. They seized the nearest thing they could grasp, and that so happened to be the sylph.

The titan nymph was jostled under their sudden weight, struggling to keep herself afloat. Jeimos clung desperately to the sylph’s bony back. They looked down and saw a long drop below.

Still, they knew what they must do. Jeimos’ scream tore through the air amidst the wind and thunder, and then they burst into flames. Smoke billowed from their mouth and nostrils. Their hands quaked around the sylph’s neck.

Their flames engulfed her immediately and she lit up like a star. Within seconds, the sylph’s body disintegrated to ash and fell to the earth. Jeimos fell with it, screwing their eyes shut as they waited for the lethal impact.

The impact came, but it was hardly lethal. Jeimos dared to crack one orange eye open. They found themselves lying across Isaac’s lap. He clutched Jeimos’ sleeve in one hand and Shadow’s reigns in the other as he guided the roc in a slow, even descent.

The clouds were already parting as the cyclone lost its power. Beams of sunlight pierced through and bathed the bleak desert in their golden glow.

The soldiers cheers were like thunder as Shadow landed before them. Isaac helped Jeimos down from the saddle and the elf staggered forth towards their crewmen. Evan caught them before they collapsed. “Jeimos, are you alright?” he asked.

The elf’s lanky body fell limp in his arms. “It’s just…arcane…fatigue…” they panted. Glenvar offered them a canteen and they snatched it, greedily sucking it down. It all came back up when they spit it out in a dramatic spray.

“Glenvar, this isn’t water! This is whisky!” they sputtered.

“Close! It’s rum,” the portly man chuckled.

The elf shoved the canteen back in his hands. Alaine shrugged the hydropouch off her back—an extra large canteen to keep a mermaid sated in the desert—and offered it to Jeimos.

“Ah, how refreshing,” Jeimos sighed, smacking their lips with satisfaction. “This one has lemon in it. Thank you, Ms. Fontaine!”

Alaine replied with a grin, “What can I say? If you want good water, ask a mermaid.”

The mercenaries and their army took the opportunity for a rest as the last of the foul weather cleared. The wind slowed, the rain stopped, and the clouds were reduced to faint smears stretched across the sky.

With the sylph defeated, they could continue their journey to the foreign shape on the horizon. Glancing at his map, Evan had a feeling they were in the right place.

The neighboring towns of Duiin and Duali were not far. In the far-flung outskirts of these towns was where the mercenaries encountered Mankind’s Disgrace for the first time. It was in this region that they discovered his Wretched Forge, where they rescued Shadow as a young fledgling, and where they met the Steel Knuckle Squad.

The Freelance Good Guys had much history in this place. They always hoped they would never have to return. Yet here they were, 3 years later, for what they hoped would be their final showdown with this mysterious masked foe.

Shadow led the way to the dark shape on the horizon. It was a great pyramid jutting out from the sand like a tooth, with many tall, pointed spires stretching skyward along its edges. It was built from blocks of dark stone, somehow carved and hauled from the depths of the earth.

Pierced upon the spires were corpses both fresh and rotten, animal and man of many species. The bases of the spires were piled high with dusty bones, crawling with scorpions scavenging the last remains of flesh. Whatever atrocities had been committed here, they had been going on for years.

The fleet made their landing and marched towards the pyramid under the brutal evening sun. There was but one way inside: a stone doorway in the shape of a roc’s screaming beak. It towered ten men high and appeared to be closed.

Evan commanded his army to wait some distance away from the structure. He saw no guards and all was deathly quiet. Still, he wasn’t convinced the area was safe.

Evan took one of the sky-donkeys’ reigns and led it closer to the pyramid. Wringing their hands anxiously, Jeimos called, “Mr. Atlas? What are you doing with Claris?”

“We have to check for traps,” answered Evan, and he delivered a hard smack to the animal’s behind.

Jeimos cried out as Claris sprinted forward in fright. The mercenaries braced themselves for an explosion, a pitfall, or any other disaster to befall her.

But the animal loped all the way up to the door without incident. Only then did Evan wave the Uekoran soldiers over and lead the way up to the door. He searched for a handle or some kind of mechanism, but he saw no way to open it.

Then he heard a low rumble as it began to slide open on its own. Turning around, he saw his crewmen standing directly behind him.

Isaac sighed, “It opened because of me, didn’t it?”

“Same as last time,” said Evan. He faced the formation of soldiers and called, “My crew and I will head inside to do some recon! Keep this door open, and when you hear the signal…”

He raised his war horn in the air, loaned to him by Jelani. “…you know what to do! We are dealing with the vilest, most heartless scum on all of Gaia! They are deaf to all reason, so take no prisoners and show no mercy! Every last one of them must be wiped from the land!”

All in unison, the soldiers thumped their weapons against the cracked earth in acceptance of their mission. Evan jumped at their immediate, organized response. He could hardly get 10 of his crewmen on the same page about anything, much less 500. He had never commanded so many people in all his career.

Their power filled him with confidence, and Evan beckoned his crew and their mounts as he passed into the ominous structure. The soldiers propped the door open with two wooden tent poles. Cautiously the 6 mercenaries crept down the long, stony stairway. It led them deep into the body of Gaia, so steep that all they could see was a red abyss below.

Distant sounds reverberated up the walls. Miserably familiar sounds of clanging metal, maniacal laughter, and screams of terror. The air was growing hotter as they descended, the cacophony of evil swelling louder.

These were the same conditions of the Wretched Forge—but how could that be when they watched it crumble years ago? Disgrace survived, and it seemed his vile worshipers and their slaves had rebuilt the forge from the ground up. Now it was even bigger, sturdier, and more repulsive than before.

They braced themselves for the horrors within.

*

The Wretched Forge was a place of utter despair. This vast space stretched high into a black abyss, with a long, stone bridge stretching across a pit in its center. The pit plummeted deep down into the body of Gaia, and at its bottom was a bubbling pool of magma that illuminated the interior in a bold, red glow.

An island rose up from the center of the pit, and on the island was a massive, smoking forge. There, enslaved peoples worked tirelessly to shovel coal and hammer metal, producing an endless supply of armor and weaponry for Disgrace’s monstrous minions.

Those minions patrolled the upper levels of the interior. They were flaming pyriads, fearsome skorpius, and unfeeling bonewalkers—all creatures that could naturally withstand the conditions of such a hot and miserable place.

The top section of the pyramid split open like a beetle’s mandibles, filling the space with evening light. Then, from the sky, a fleet of bat-like dragons swooped inside. They perched upon long spikes jutting out from the walls, stretching all the way up the loftiest places. Upon the dragons’ backs were bonewalker jockeys. They waited on their perches as another flying creature descended through the ceiling.

It was as if two rocs had been cut in half and sewn to eachother, creating a two-headed, four-winged abomination. It careened down into the Wretched Forge, carrying a large cage of iron bars in its four talons. There stood a great, towering throne at the end of the bridge. The monstrous roc-creature landed just in front of it, perching atop the cage as bonewalker minions approached.

Piloting the mutant roc was none other than Mankind’s Disgrace, the Divine of Hate. He looked down upon his minions through the ruby eyes of his jackal mask, clad in a long, red cloak with a golden scythe in his hand.

Several bonewalkers seized the mutant’s reigns, holding it steady as their master dismounted. The creature’s twin heads jerked and writhed as if trying to pull themselves apart, but like molten metal, their bodies had melded together as one.

The divine’s boots hit the stony floor. Their texture was gnarled, for they were made from the charred skins of peoples, as were his cloak and the sarong around his waist. His ghastly, grey chest was bare beneath, marred with scars both new and old. He turned to the cage, looming over the trio of minervae huddled inside.

The iron bars burned their fae skin to the touch and blocked their magical powers. The minervae trembled and whimpered in terror, clutching their Tomes of Infinity close to their chests. Destiny was among them, but she had no book to hold. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her sisters and pulled them close, offering any words of comfort she could muster.

“W-what is this horrible place?” whimpered Kindness, the gentlest of the sisters.

“Destiny, what is he going to do with us?” queried Eloquence, the most well-spoken of the sisters.

Destiny’s eyes glistened with tears, for she hadn’t the heart to tell them. “Shh. Just hold on to me,” she whispered, and her sisters hugged her tightly. Their once elegant dresses were torn, pink hair filthy with sand and grime from their journey through the storm.

Disgrace slowly circled the cage as his minions surrounded him, eagerly awaiting their master’s next move. As her sisters buried their faces in her shoulders, Destiny met the divine’s ruby glare with fury in her eyes.

“I know what you want,” she hissed through her teeth, “and you are wasting your time. You can never change what I have foreseen!”

Disgrace continued to stalk around the cage, circling the minervae like a vulture to a carcass. He raised his scythe high and stabbed its golden edge into the ground. It pierced right through the stone and stuck there, while quick as lightning, his newly freed hand reached through the bars and seized Kindness’ tome.

She shrieked and pulled back with all her might, but Disgrace ripped it from her hands with ease before kicking her in the chest. She fell back against Eloquence and Destiny, who wrapped their arms protectively around her.

It mattered not. They knew they could not truly protect her so long as her tome was in the hands of such a menace. He opened the book, flipping through its pages. Each and every one appeared blank.

Frustrated, he began tearing them out and tossing them aside as he searched for information. Kindness screamed in agony with every tear. Her sisters clutched her close, powerless to help as her flesh began to disintegrate right before their eyes.

Her Tome of Infinity refused to share its knowledge with the cruel divine, so Disgrace closed its cover and pitched it down into the pit. It splashed into the bubbling magma, caught fire, and turned to ash in seconds.

So too did Kindness, her screams fading away as she crumbled into a sludgy mixture of black ash and burgundy wine. The sludge twitched like a living creature, and then hundreds of butterflies crawled out from its mass.

Destiny remained silent, clutching the bars of the cage despite how it burned her hands, and glared at Disgrace. Meanwhile Eloquence wailed in mourning as the butterflies shook off their wings and flew out of the cage.

They flocked together, flying straight towards the towering doorway that led to the stairs. They disappeared in the darkness of the corridor while Disgrace ripped Eloquence’s tome away from her.

“No, please! It will tell you nothing, for you are not meant to know!” Eloquence begged, reaching for the tome in the divine’s hands. “Please let us go! You have nothing to gain from this senseless cruelty!”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Disgrace flipped through the book, and just like the last, the pages refused to speak to him. His muscles bulged as he tore it in two, leather cover and all, and threw it into the magma pit.

Like Kindness, Eloquence melted away into a pile of sludge from which butterflies sprouted. These butterflies too fled towards the dark corridor to the outside.

Destiny looked down at her dress, her arms, her hands—all covered in the remains of her sisters. Her fists clenched and trembled with emotion. Meeting Disgrace’s eyes once again, she hissed, “Now they lie dead, and still your hands are empty. Just as we said they would be, you damned fool!”

Her stony expression remained, even as Disgrace seized her by her throat, slamming her against the bars. Disgrace leaned to her left, then to her right. He reached through the bars with his free hand and palmed at her dress, but turned up nothing.

Destiny rasped, “You don’t listen, do you? You will not get what you want! Your divinity is a falsehood, your immortality a mere illusion! I know not from where you came, creature, but I have seen your fate! Now you know your days on Gaia are numbered…” A toothy smile stretched across her face. “…and there is nothing you can do about it.”

Disgrace flinched as she spit directly into his jeweled eye. Reeling back, he swiped the scythe sticking out of the floor and lifted it high above his head. Destiny stood tall and unafraid, fists clenched at her sides. But before he could slice her in twain, an arrow whizzed through the room and stabbed through the back of his hand.

The scythe clattered to the floor. Just as Disgrace turned around, another arrow pierced through his chest, followed by a throwing knife to his belly and a war axe in his knee. 6 armored invaders had somehow infiltrated the Wretched Forge, and now they were flying straight towards him on the backs of clumsy sky-donkeys.

Disgrace collapsed to one knee. He reached for his scythe, but Destiny swiped it away. Meanwhile the invaders were quickly advancing, slashing and pounding all the dusty bonewalkers in their path. Several skorpius and pyriads moved in to intercept them. At the same time, several other minions surrounded Destiny’s cage, trying to snatch the scythe away from her.

She clutched the weapon tight, brandishing it when their reach got too close. They backed well away each time she did, as if the slightest touch from the weapon would destroy them.

By the time Disgrace yanked the arrow from his hand, the knife from his belly, and the axe from his knee, he was tackled to the ground by a behemoth of a human clad in leather armor.

The divine’s minions intercepted the other mercenaries, knocking them from their mounts. But Evan managed to pilot his dragon with swift precision, bringing Disgrace to the floor. He rolled off the sky-donkey, pinned the divine’s left arm down with his shield as he raised his sword, ready to lop off his right.

The bonewalkers harassing Destiny suddenly turned their attention to their master. They surrounded him and attacked Evan with their rusty, ancient swords.

The lycanthrope hunkered down under his shield and blew his war horn. Though he should have given the signal earlier, there was simply no time. None of them expected to find Destiny in such peril the moment they arrived.

His crew battled a horde of vicious monsters and frail undead, struggling to keep them at bay until the army descended the long stairway. Their awkward dragons bumbled through the air, aimless and fearful of the action around them.

Disgrace seized Evan by the throat, quickly rising to his feet. The minions crowding him suddenly backed away as if obeying some silent command. Evan gnashed his teeth, throat bruising beneath the divine’s fingers, and he swung his sword at his neck.

Disgrace raised his opposite arm and the blade bounced off his metal gauntlet. He then threw the captain to the side, sending him rolling across the floor until he toppled over the side of the pit.

Lukas saw his dearest friend disappear over the edge. He screamed the man’s name, but it was too late. With sword in hand, he ducked and rolled beneath the belly of a skorpius, dodged the flaming claws of a pyriad, and sprinted towards Disgrace.

The divine was storming towards Destiny. She brandished the scythe at him and he stopped in his tracks. Only for a second, but a second was all Lukas needed to drive his sword through his back.

Lukas quickly pulled the sword back out. The blade was coated in blood, black as night. He took a second swipe, slashing across Disgrace’s torso. He took a final swipe at his neck, but Disgrace intercepted it with his gauntlet and socked Lukas in the head. Blood sprayed from the man’s face. He spun before he hit the ground, lying in a dazed heap.

At last, the Uekoran army arrived. They flooded the interior like water, extinguishing the flaming monsters. They arrived not only on foot, but on the backs of their dragons, swooping gracefully through the lofty interior. Upon their perched mounts, the bonewalker jockeys sprung into action, defending the forge in an airborne battle.

Another battle raged below, between the foot soldiers and Disgrace’s minions. The bonewalkers were many, but they were only as resilient as their ancient, brittle parts. Their skulls exploded into dust with every strike of Glenvar’s warhammer. Femurs snapped and spines collapsed around the golden-haired man as he fought his way towards Lukas, still writhing on the ground.

“I got ya, Lulu! Just hold on!” he bellowed. He swung his hammer again, bashing through another flimsy bonewalker. But it crashed into something more solid beyond that, sending Glenvar reeling back.

A skorpius turned to face him—an imposing, heavyweight monster made of red flesh and hard chitin plates, all covered in spikes. It had the torso of a man, the 6-legged body of a scorpion, and two massive pincers for hands.

Glenvar snarled, “Move yer arse, ya big, ugly fecker!” and took a swung at the monster’s torso. It caught the handle of his hammer in its claw, trying to wrench it from his grip. But when it lifted it up, Glenvar came with it, letting go for nothing.

Glenvar rocked himself forward, throwing all his bodyweight behind a kick to the monster’s eye socket. The skorpius staggered back and tossed him back down, helpless to soothe his eye with two sharp claws.

Darting between the monster’s legs, Glenvar approached Lukas and tossed him over his shoulder. He dragged the archer to safety while just nearby, Disgrace was unarmed and locked in a battle with several Uekoran soldiers. Destiny turned all around in her cage, taking in the chaos that had suddenly erupted around her.

She saw Jeimos lob a fireball at a pyriad, only for their spell to be absorbed into the nymph’s body. The nymph let out a maniacal laugh as they gave chase to the elf, brandishing a molten stone mace.

Jeimos took cover behind Alaine, who desperately wrenched the hydropouch off her shoulders and pitched it at the pyriad. The pouch exploded on impact, dousing the pyriad and extinguishing her flames. She went down in a shrieking, steaming pile of rocks.

In the other direction, Destiny spotted none other than Isaac, the guardian of her tome. The young man had scaled the side of a wall, just out of reach of the minions harassing him from below. He shoved his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly.

Just a few seconds later, Shadow swooped by with a mighty crow, crushing the crowd of foes beneath her talons. Isaac jumped into her saddle and took off into the air. He was not alone in the heights of the pyramid, for the air was busy with dragonback soldiers and undead engaged in a fierce battle of their own.

Shadow dwarfed all of the dragons, swatting Disgrace’s flying minions out of the air with her powerful wings. They spun downward and splashed into the bubbling pit.

“Ms. Destiny!” called a voice. Destiny jumped, whirling around to see Jeimos crouching before her. They said, “Don’t worry, we’re here to rescue you! Now let’s see if I can melt these bars!”

Flames burst to life in their palms. They seized the bars of the cage door and squeezed, but their flames went out with a hiss upon contact. “Ugh, they’re pure iron! Of course they are! Blast it all!” the elf growled.

Destiny looked up at the scythe’s golden blade. Its curved edge was tinted red, as if permanently stained by blood.

“Stand back,” she said, and Jeimos obeyed, watching as she swung the scythe at the bars. It left them both in awe, for the blade sliced right through the iron like a hot knife through butter. Destiny made another cut below the first. The bars broke away, clattering on the floor, and Jeimos helped her climb out of the open space.

The elf shot a great burst of fire straight into the air, creating a beacon to get Isaac’s attention. The young man spotted them immediately as he piloted Shadow. He made a quick landing, pulling Destiny into his saddle while Jeimos clung to the bird’s talon.

But Shadow had barely taken off again when something massive whizzed by her, ramming her into a wall. Destiny nearly toppled off her back. Isaac clung tightly to the minervae with one arm, the other clutching the reigns.

He saw the mutant twin-headed roc careening passed, and atop its back was Mankind’s Disgrace, raising a Uekoran soldier’s saber above his head. Isaac steered Shadow upwards into the black abyss, but the mutant only followed, a surprisingly slow-moving creature considering how many wings it had.

Jeimos pitched a fireball at the mutant and it exploded against Disgrace’s torso. The divine simply shrugged it off as he left a trail of cinders in his wake. Destiny shoved the scythe in front of Isaac and said, “Isaac, take this!”

“What?” the mercenary fumbled as she practically shoved against his chest, forcing him to grab the weapon in his right hand.

Conjuring an even larger ball of fire between their hands, Jeimos let out a yell as they threw it back towards the mutant. The flames engulfed the creature, but did not seem to harm it. It continued to chase them with flaming feathers, and Disgrace seemed even less concerned.

“Izzy, I can’t shake him!” the elf cried. Disgrace suddenly pitched his sword, sending it spinning towards Jeimos. The elf shrieked and dodged just in time, but Shadow was not so fortunate.

The blade sunk deep into her downy thigh. She crowd in pain, Isaac briefly losing control when she faltered in the air. Isaac never saw Disgrace throw the sword, but he heard Shadow’s pained cry and knew he’d done something to hurt her.

It mattered not what it was. Fury coursed through the young man’s veins when he suddenly jerked Shadow’s reigns to the side. She made a sharp U-turn and Isaac raised his scythe, about to collide with the mutant. Disgrace was caught off-guard by the bold maneuver. Isaac was fast approaching with the scythe raised, ready to slice it through the divine.

Though he’d shrugged off a hundred stabs and slashes from lesser weapons, it seemed Disgrace was not willing to take a hit from his own scythe. He was so desperate to escape it that he leaped off his burning mount and tumbled down into the pit far below.

His body disappeared in the magma with a sloppy splash. Isaac watched him drop, but Shadow was still on course to collide with the mutant and it was too late to stop her.

“Hold on!” he shouted, pulling Destiny with him as he hunched flat against Shadow’s neck. Jeimos clung to the straps of the harness. The roc screeched with talons outstretched. The mutant did the same. The birds crashed together, talon-to-talon, but the mutant’s greater weight pushed Shadow backwards.

They spun violently through the air, about the crash into a wall when Isaac screamed, “Drop it!”

Shadow uncurled her talons and jerked out of the mutant’s grip. The mutant continued spinning, its four wings and two heads unable to cooperate. It slammed into a pillar, and the entire pyramid quaked as the pillar exploded into stone chunks. Both the mutant and the debris crashed down on top of soldiers and monsters alike, crushing them beneath the great weight.

Tiny flames licked at Shadow’s feathers, remnants of her collision with the mutant. Jeimos quickly patted them out as Isaac scanned the space for his crewmen. He pointed down at Glenvar and Lukas, hiding behind a pillar, and Shadow swooped down to collect them.

Lukas clung to her left talon with Jeimos, Glenvar alone on her right until they spotted Alaine losing a battle with a skorpius. The skorpius raised its claw to strike. It was poised to snip the mermaid in half, but instead, it was crushed to death under Shadow’s claws when she landed directly on top of it.

Alaine joined Glenvar on her right talon, calling up to Isaac, “Ugh, it’s hotter than the sun in here! Let’s go already! Do we have Destiny?”

As Shadow ascended, Isaac replied, “Yeah, but we’re still missing Evan!”

“Isaac, he’s gone!” Lukas bellowed, his voice ragged with hurt. “I saw him die, let’s just—”

“Look, chaps! My stars, it’s _Claris_!” gasped Jeimos, thrusting their finger at the sky-donkey hovering towards them. They squinted, noticing the jockey on its back. “Oh, and Mr. Atlas too, I guess.”

Indeed, the mercenary captain piloted Claris alongside Shadow and greeted his crew with a big, white smile. “Ms. Destiny, it’s been a while!” he said. “How are you this evening?”

Clinging to Isaac’s waist, the minervae collapsed against his back and groaned, “I’ve certainly been better!”

“Well, I think our boys from Uekoro have this under control,” said Evan, gesturing down at the soldiers below. They outnumbered the remaining minions many times over. “Should we call it a day, guys?”

His crew agreed loudly in unison, and together, they flew back out of the Wretched Forge the way they came. They made their way to Uekoro under the warm glow of the setting sun, trailed by a kaleidoscope of butterflies. The mercenaries looked upon the butterflies with wonder as they flitted to and fro joyously, as if in celebration.

Destiny stretched out her arm, offering her palm. Two of the insects landed on her fingertips and she kissed their delicate wings. They fluttered against her nose before flying away, disappearing with the rest up into the stars. She and the mercenaries waved them goodbye.

The Wretched Forge grew smaller and smaller on the horizon until it disappeared behind them. The Freelance Good Guys hoped that after tonight, it would fade to nothing but a memory.

*

Jelani lay prone on his bed, fully clothed and too tired to change that. After all the excitement of the day, he was consumed by slumber the instant his body hit the mattress. There he slept as the last shreds of sunlight disappeared, replaced by twinkling stars in the black sky.

Perhaps not even a bomb could wake him. But the unexpected screech of a roc could, for he shot upright and turned towards the large, open window, where he saw Shadow perched upon his balcony. The Freelance Good Guys stood around her, greeting the king with exhausted waves and hellos.

Dumbfounded, Jelani staggered out of bed and threw his balcony doors open, meeting them outside. The nighttime breeze was cool and pleasant, blowing the mercenaries’ hair as they removed their helmets out of respect.

“Friends,” croaked Jelani, still groggy from his nap, “y-you’re back! Please tell me, is he…?”

“Disgrace is dead,” Evan told him. “At least for now. The soldiers are cleaning up the last of his base in the Serkel Desert. Seeing as he’s apparently a divine, he shouldn’t return for at least another year.”

The king opened his mouth to speak. He seemed to lose his train of thought, simply blowing a sigh through his nostrils instead. He scrubbed a hand over his weary face and said, “I suppose that’s the best I can ask for…”

“We rescued Destiny too!” mentioned Isaac, helping the minervae down from Shadow’s saddle. He pulled the scythe off his back and added, “ _And_ we stole Disgrace’s weapon! This thing can cut through anything like butter, it’s amazing! Check it out!”

He demonstrated by slicing through the wrought-iron railing of the balcony. It collapsed, clanging on the rooftop below. “Isaac!” Evan scolded, but Jelani hardly seemed fazed by the property damage.

Rather, he was fixated on Destiny, pointing a finger at her when he said, “You! You’re the one that spoke to us through that book, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Your Highness. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The minervae paid him a respectful bow. “My name is Destiny. I’m a researcher at the World Athenaeum, specializing in divinity and the cosmic hierarchy of physical and metaphysical—”

Jelani raised a hand, blinking his tired eyes. “Woah, alright,” he interrupted, “it’s far too late to be using big words like that. Why don’t you just come in and we’ll sort this out later?” His eyes flicked up and down the crew. “You all look like you should pay a visit to Dr. Asha.”

*

The mercenaries shuffled into the palace infirmary, bruised, bleeding, and aching. Destiny followed, comparatively unscathed, and watched as her minervae sister tended their wounds one by one.

“Shadow got hurt out there too! She’s got a sword stuck in her leg!” Isaac blurted as the doctor prepared her tools.

Dr. Asha laid out her medical kit on the counter as she replied, “The beastmasters will see to her, child. My concern lies with you lot—especially _you_ , Master Lukas! What on Gaia happened to your face?”

Lukas sat slumped back in a chair, pressing a blood-soaked rag to his swollen jaw. The swelling extended up to his black eye. “The God of Hate has a solid right-hook, I’ll give him that,” he slurred. “Just be glad I still have a head…”

Dr. Asha tended him first, inspecting the damage as she spoke to the other minervae standing in the corner. “Thank the gods you survived, my sister. Even under such terrible circumstances, I’m glad to see your face again. It’s been ages, hasn’t it?”

“Many ages,” agreed Destiny, holding the scythe with its blade to the floor. “The last time we met, Etios was not even a nation!”

“Yes, and Matuzu Kingdom was a much nastier place to be,” replied Dr. Asha. “But the Fanakas have always treated me well. How is life at the Athenaeum? Well, before all this, I mean.”

Destiny frowned. “There was a time when we knew nothing but peace, but chaos and unrest has plagued us for these last few years. It’s almost as if some kind of trigger was pulled. As if something disturbed Mankind’s Disgrace and now he will not rest. He has been relentless in his terror—not just in Serkel, but foreign lands too.”

“Ow! Jeez, Asha! Take it easy,” Lukas griped, drawing away from her touch. The doctor gently cupped his jaw in her palm, stroking his forehead in apology.

Destiny added, “Perhaps this is a bad time to catch up. Please tend to these heroic people. I will see myself to the guest quarters.” Before she left, she approached Isaac and offered the golden scythe.

The young man looked between her and the weapon, reluctant to take it. “Please,” she insisted. “I entrusted you with my tome, and now I entrust you with this. Only those with righteousness in their hearts should ever wield such a weapon. You are a good person in good company, and I know you will use it wisely.”

Isaac hesitated, looking back at his crew. They had nothing to say, so he carefully took the scythe and replied, “Uh, I disagree with you completely, but thank you. With any luck, I won’t cut off my own finger or something.”

Destiny smiled and told him, “This weapon only harms what you intend to harm.”

Isaac shrieked when she suddenly swiped her hand against its razor-sharp blade. He cringed in disgust, but when she turned her palm to face him, there was not even a scratch upon it. “What? How?” he asked, closely inspecting the blade.

With a shrug, Destiny said, “I guess you didn’t want it to hurt me.” She affectionately rustled the young man’s springy hair, then turned and headed for the exit. Before she left, she said, “Always keep knowledge and power close to your heart, Isaac. Farewell.”

She was gone in an instant, leaving Isaac with a mysterious scythe and more questions than answers.

Glenvar pulled the flask from his vest, unscrewing the cap as he muttered, “Gods, she’s a strange one. I said it before and I’ll say it again: bein’ smart makes ya crazy!”

*

By the time the mercenaries left the infirmary, a feast was prepared and waiting for them in the dining hall. The entire palace held a late-night celebration over their victory. The harem ladies played lively music for the king and his guests, who danced and drank the night away.

Destiny was curiously absent, though the crew figured she must have been resting. Of all of them, she had suffered the most hardship that day by far.

Jelani climbed onto the long table, kicking plates and goblets to the floor. The others cheered as he dragged Evan up with him, and the two began to dance.

All but Lukas, standing in a shadowy corner of the room with an empty goblet in his hand. He watched his captain and his brother dance with disdain, then tapped a passing slave on the shoulder and waggled his goblet.

The slave refilled his drink with a steep bow. “Thanks,” Lukas muttered before gulping down everything they poured in.

When they had their fill of food and drink, the guests began staggering their way back to their rooms. Jelani pulled Evan close, showering him with drunken kisses. He whispered in the captain’s ear, “Let’s go back to my chamber, love…”

Though on the intoxicated side himself, a distant voice of reason screamed in Evan’s opposite ear. It screamed so loud and yet it was silent. When he turned to face it, he saw Lukas glaring at him from the corner.

Evan cleared his throat, paid Jelani a chaste kiss and said, “Go ahead. I’ll be up in a minute.”

“Don’t take too long,” Jelani told him, smiling wryly, then he stumbled his way out of the room. Inhaling a deep breath, Evan closed his eyes and took a moment to swallow his pride. Then he made the long, shameful walk towards his best friend, his commander, his ex-lover, to tell him what he already knew:

“I screwed up, Lukas.”

“Oh, did you now?” Lukas replied flatly, casually swirling the last drop around in his goblet.

Evan sighed, “You were right, okay? You were right all along. I…” He dropped his voice to a whisper, speaking as if every word pained him when he finished, “I don’t want to marry Jelani.”

He jumped when Lukas suddenly threw his head back and let out a loud, sardonic laugh. “Shh! Stop that!” the captain begged him. “It’s not funny, Lukas! This is serious! I don’t know what to do!”

“Aaah, this is rich!” moaned Lukas. “I love the taste of a sweet, finely-aged I-Told-You-So! Goes down a lot smoother than _this_ swill, that’s for sure.” He tossed the goblet over his shoulder. It clattered on the ground, catching the attention of a drudger, who quickly picked it up as the other slaves cleaned the room.

“Yes, yes. Drink it up, you jackass…” Evan sighed, scrubbing at his sweaty face. “I should have listened to you. I don’t really love him. I never did, and it took me this long to realize it.”

Lukas arched his brows high, his tone just as mocking when he asked, “But why ever not? How could you not love someone as kind, as honest, and as humble as Jelani Fanaka?”

His sarcasm wasn’t lost on Evan. The captain pressed his back against the wall, replied, “He loves me. I know he does, I’m sure of it! But he’s also pushy and arrogant, he’s lied to me more times than I can count, he’s cruel to his slaves, nasty to his subordinates, and his temper is just downright…”

He shuddered from head to toe. “… _eugh!_ It’s that temper I’m afraid of. He’s already invested two years of his life into this relationship, and if I break it off now, he’s going to be furious!”

“Yes, Evan,” Lukas said loudly and slowly, as if speaking to a child. He clamped his hands on the man’s shoulders and gave him a shake. “That’s what I’ve been warning you about over and over and _over_ again for the last _two years_ , you pig-headed oaf! You! Never! Listen!” He jabbed his finger into Evan’s chest with each exclamation.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry!” the captain groaned, swatting his commander’s hands away.

Lukas dug into him further, “Why did you ever think getting involved with a Matuzan king was a good idea?”

Shaking his head, Evan barked, “Because I’m a pig-headed oaf, obviously!” After a pause and another deep breath, he added, “Whatever you have to say, I promise I’m listening to you now. So I humbly ask you, as my most trusted friend…What should I do?”

Just then, a familiar face peeked into the room. Jelani nearly fell on his face, clutching the doorframe to steady himself as he called, “Atlas, my love! Are you coming? Get yourself upstairs and you will be!” He doubled over in a fit of sloppy, drunken laughter.

Evan turned to Lukas with uncertainty on his face. His commander simply patted him on the shoulder and said, “You have two heads, Evan. Use the right one for once.”

With that, Lukas disappeared down another corridor as Jelani came to collect Evan. The king threw an arm around his waist, pulling him through the large doorway to the stairs. “C’mon, lover, before the whole night passes us by!” he slurred.

Just three steps up the curving stairway proved too much for him. He wobbled and Evan caught him before he tumbled onto his face.

“Jelani, you’re way too drunk to—” he began, but the king interrupted him much too loudly,

“Naaaah, I’m not drunk! A king doesn’t get _drunk_ , we just have a little…uh, a little bit of…” Evan saw the man’s eyes starting to roll back into his head. He gave Jelani a shake, but he was fading fast.

Lifting the king off his feet, Evan carried him up the stairs and down the hall to his chamber. Jelani warbled nonsense all the while, then finally fell silent once Evan placed him belly-down on his bed. He was out like a candle in an instant.

A trio of harem ladies were playing their instruments in the corner. One of them paused to speak to Evan. “I think Your Highness had too much wine,” she said. “Would you like _us_ to satisfy you, Master Atlas?”

“What?” Evan’s brows shot up for a brief moment, then he waved his hands and told her, “No, no, please…You’re all dismissed for the night. Rest well, ladies.”

The maenads set their instruments down and trudged out of the room, grumbling with disappointment. Evan snuffed out the bedside candle before crawling into bed beside Jelani.

“Good night, Jelani,” he whispered, kissing the king’s forehead. Then he closed his eyes and fell into a fitful slumber, dreaming of disasters that had yet to come.

*

Early the next morning, Destiny boarded a cargo dragon full of soldiers, who escorted her safely back to Matuzu Capital. The mercenaries stood in the courtyard, waving goodbye as she disappeared into the sky.

The crew then made their way to the dining table, where breakfast was still being prepared. They were all a little hungover, but no one moreso than Jelani, slumped over at the head of the table with a cool cloth pressed to his brow.

The mercenaries took their seats and waited patiently while slaves filled the table with plate after plate of Uekoran cuisine. They were presented with sugared locusts, dolphin steaks, _ekumela_ pie, and hardboiled eggs with hand-painted shells. It all looked and smelled delectable, but Evan warned them not to touch it until everyone was seated.

The slaves pulled chairs out for the high-ranking guards and palace staff that came to join them. Once every seat was filled, Jelani dragged himself to his feet with a little groan. He tossed his cool cloth down and picked up a goblet instead, tapping a fork against it to get everyone’s attention.

“Attention, guests!” he began, squinting in the light of the ivory chandelier. “I have more news to share, and this time it’s good news!” A small round of cheers swelled from around the table. Jelani continued, “The kingdom-wide lockdown is over! Matuzu Capital has been declared safe, and all travel is free to resume as usual.”

“Oh, thank gods!” groaned Lukas, thumping his weary, swollen head down on the table.

“Furthermore,” continued Jelani, “Uekoran forces have successfully neutralized the source of the attacks. I am told the Wretched Forge is no more. No enemy was spared, and the forge itself was bombed to dust. Our brave soldiers should be arriving home any minute now. I will be holding a celebration in their honor today at high sun.”

Another set of cheers erupted around the table, much louder than the last.

Slaves rushed to and fro all morning to make preparations. The exterior of the palace was decorated with garlands and signs, welcoming the soldiers home. The king stepped out onto the highest balcony, accompanied by the Freelance Good Guys and his most trusted staff, as well as an unexpected guest.

Claris the sky-donkey stood beside Jelani, eating grass shoots from a basket held by one of the harem ladies. Jelani announced to the vast crowd below, “My people, today we celebrate our heroic warriors and their most recent victory against the Divine of Hate! It is only because of their bravery and the mercy of the gods that I live to stand before you today! Let us thank them for our continued freedom and abundance!”

The crowd exploded into cheers. Uekoran flags waved among them, yellow _setsiki_ motifs proudly displayed against a colorful striped background. The king patted Claris on the head and continued, “Let us also not forget the brave steeds that brought our men home! In an amazing display of courage and loyalty, I am told this little dragon saved a soldier’s life in the midst of battle!”

Another harem lady stepped forward, holding a necklace high in the air. It was made from fine silk ribbons with a golden medal dangling from the bottom. Taking it from her, Jelani said, “I am proud to present this animal with a medal of valor! I dub her Claris the Courageous, and from this day forward, she shall roam freely in the gardens of Fanaka Palace as a decorated hero!”

The dragon calmly chewed her cud, staring ahead blankly as she was applauded by all of Uekoro.

*

Uekoro was buzzing with excitement all throughout the day. The streets sang with music and danced with parades until the sun began to fall.

Evan was exhausted, having been dragged around to ceremony after ceremony with Jelani. Finally he was ready to crawl into the king’s luxuriant bed and call it night. He made his way down one of the many long corridors of the palace, somewhat lost as usual, but knew the building’s looping shape meant he’d end up back in the atrium eventually.

He spotted a figure approaching him in the otherwise barren hallway. Evan squinted, then his brows arched in surprise. As late as it was, Lukas was the last person he expected to run into.

“Lukas?” he queried. “What are you still doing here? I thought you were going to catch a flight home.”

The archer shrugged, hesitating a little before he answered, “Yeah, well, I had some things to take care of.”

“Such as…?”

“Such as making sure _you_ don’t start a damn war,” Lukas snapped and delivered a good-natured punch to the captain’s shoulder.

Wearing an uneasy smile, Evan replied, “Right. That.”

“I figured I should probably stick around for a while,” Lukas continued. “You know, in case you royally fuck things up with Your Highness, maybe I can help smooth it over. He doesn’t listen to me any better than you do, but at least you won’t be alone. He’s _my_ stupid brother, the least I can do is take responsibility for him.”

“You’re a treasure, Lukas,” Evan told him sincerely, trapping him in a crushing embrace. “Thank you.”

“Easy, not so tight!” grunted Lukas. “Asha says I have a cracked rib.”

Evan quickly withdrew. “Ah. In that case, perhaps you should go get some rest.”

“That’s the plan. Where are you headed?”

“Just on my way to Jelani’s chamber,” Evan told him.

Lukas furrowed his brows. “Since when is his chamber in the library?”

“Um…”

“Two years on and you’re _still_ getting lost in here,” Lukas chuckled. He patted his friend’s back and started leading him the way he came. “It’s alright, I’ll get you there. Where would you be without me, huh?”

The captain let out a long-suffering sigh and answered, “Probably married to a king I don’t love.”

*

The rest of the mercenaries’ vacation passed without incident.

Glenvar spent most of it getting drunk with the guards while Alaine swam in the natural pool and played music with the harem ladies. Jeimos went unseen for days as they shut themselves away in the expansive library, emerging only for food and drink.

Isaac never wandered far from the palace beastmasters as they taught him how to pilot a proper war dragon. They assured him that Shadow’s wound was not serious. Still, Isaac demanded nothing of the roc and pampered her until the week’s end, when her injury was completely healed over. He brought her out into the courtyard while slaves wheeled her gazebo behind her.

Jelani followed Evan to the courtyard to say his goodbyes. As the mercenaries packed their luggage into the gazebo, Jelani pulled his mercenary lover into a passionate kiss and told him, “You’ve got to stop hurting me like this, love.”

Sheer guilt slapped Evan’s gaze to the ground. He hadn’t mentioned the breakup at all, just couldn’t find the courage at any point in his stay. “I know. I’m sorry, Jelani.”

“You’re going to take care of those things back home, right?”

“Yes.”

“So that next time we meet, we can talk about moving things forward…?”

Evan just couldn’t meet his eyes. “Yes,” he said to the grass.

“See that you do,” grinned Jelani, patting the side of Evan’s stubbled face. “I’ll be missing you, Atlas. Write me the moment you get home so I know you made it! I’ll send you something fun in return.” He winked, wearing his crooked grin.

The mercenaries loaded themselves into the gazebo as Isaac climbed Shadow’s harness, plopping down in her saddle. He checked twice that Destiny’s tome was tucked in his rucksack, and that Disgrace’s scythe was secured to the straps on his back. Then he lowered his flight goggles over his eyes and called, “Ready for takeoff in three…two…one…up-up!”

Shadow’s great wings shot out to her sides, drawing awes from the slaves in the courtyard. Jelani shielded himself from their mighty gusts as she pulled the gazebo up into the sky. He saw the mercenaries’ arms waving to him from the windows. He waved back, cupping his hands around his mouth to shout, “Goodbye, friends! Have a safe flight! I love you, Evan!”

Inside the gazebo, Evan slumped to the floor with his arms around his knees. He raked a hand over his head as he muttered, “I know you do, you handsome bastard…”

Isaac piloted Shadow above the jungle trees and across the savannah that lie over the mountains. As they approached the desert, they saw storm clouds ahead, grey and ominous. Flashes of lightning coursed through the sky as the thunder boomed like a stampede of wildebeests.

The ancient fear crept its way towards the young man’s heart. Isaac held steady and refused to let it in. With knowledge and power, he was unafraid.

**END**

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, check out http://www.loominggaia.tumblr.com for more Looming Gaia content.
> 
> If you liked the story, kudos are appreciated! If you hated it, please let me know why in the comments. I'm always trying to improve my writing. If you'd like to see some art for this story, you can find concepts and more here on Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/the-greys/gallery/61682640/worldbuilding


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